on arriving outside my room, the door of which was wide open, we
perceived the lighted candle standing in the position Mary had
described. I looked at the girls, and perceived, in spite of my
endeavours not to perceive it, the unmistakable signs of a great
fear--fear of something they suspected but dared not name--lurking in
the corners of their eyes.

"Who will go first?" Margaret demanded. No one spoke.

"Well then," she continued, "I will," and, suiting the action to the
word, she stepped over the threshold. The moment she did so, the door
began to close. "This is curious!" she cried. "Push!"

We did; we all three pushed; but, despite our efforts, the door came
resolutely to, and we were shut out. Then before we had time to
recover from our astonishment, it flew open; but before we could cross
the threshold, it came violently to in the same manner as before. Some
unseen force held it against us.

"Let us make one more effort," Margaret said, "and if we don't
succeed, we will call for help."

Obeying her instructions, we once again pushed. I was nearest the
handle, and in some manner,--how, none of us could ever explain,--just
as the door opened of its own accord, I slipped and fell inside. The
door then closed immediately with a bang, and, to my unmitigated
horror, I found myself alone in the room. For some seconds I was
spellbound, and could not even collect my thoughts sufficiently to
frame a reply to the piteous entreaties of the Holkitts, who kept
banging on the door, and imploring me to tell them what was happening.
Never in the hideous excitement of nightmare had I experienced such a
terror as the terror that room conveyed to my mind. Though nothing was
to be seen, nothing but the candle, the light of which was peculiarly
white and vibrating, I felt the presence of something inexpressibly
menacing and horrible. It was in the light, the atmosphere, the
furniture, everywhere. On all sides it surrounded me, on all sides I
was threatened--threatened in a manner that was strange and deadly.
Something suggesting to me that the source of evil originated in the
candle, and that if I could succeed in extinguishing the light I
should free myself from the ghostly presence, I advanced towards the
mantelpiece, and, drawing in a deep breath, blew--blew with the
energy born of desperation. It had no effect. I repeated my efforts; I
blew frantically, madly, but all to no purpose; the candle still
burned--burned softly a