same day
as----"

I put down the letters, and began to muse over their contents.

Fearing, however, that the train of thought into which I fell might
unsteady my nerves, I fully determined to keep my mind in a fit state to
cope with whatever of marvelous the advancing night might bring forth. I
roused myself--laid the letters on the table--stirred up the fire, which
was still bright and cheering, and opened my volume of Macaulay. I read
quietly enough till about half-past eleven. I then threw myself dressed
upon the bed, and told my servant he might retire to his own room, but
must keep himself awake. I bade him leave open the door between the two
rooms. Thus alone, I kept two candles burning on the table by my
bed-head. I placed my watch beside the weapons, and calmly resumed my
Macaulay. Opposite to me the fire burned clear; and on the hearth-rug,
seemingly asleep, lay the dog. In about twenty minutes I felt an
exceedingly cold air pass by my cheek, like a sudden draft. I fancied
the door to my right, communicating with the landing-place, must have
got open, but no--it was closed. I then turned my glance to my left, and
saw the flame of the candles violently swayed as by a wind. At the same
moment the watch beside the revolver softly slid from the table--softly,
softly--no visible hand--it was gone. I sprang up, seizing the revolver
with one hand, the dagger with the other: I was not willing that my
weapons should share the fate of the watch. Thus armed, I looked round
the floor--no sign of the watch. Three slow, loud, distinct knocks were
now heard at the bed-head; my servant called out: "Is that you, sir?"

"No; be on your guard."

The dog now roused himself and sat on his haunches, his ears moving
quickly backward and forward. He kept his eyes fixed on me with a look
so strange that he concentrated all my attention on himself. Slowly, he
rose up, all his hair bristling, and stood perfectly rigid, and with the
same wild stare. I had not time, however, to examine the dog. Presently
my servant emerged from his room; and if ever I saw horror in the human
face, it was then. I should not have recognized him had we met in the
street, so altered was every lineament. He passed by me quickly, saying
in a whisper that seemed scarcely to come from his lips: "Run--run! it
is after me!" He gained the door to the landing, pulled it open, and
rushed forth. I followed him into the landing involuntarily, calling
him to stop; bu