n violent contact with the
wall, bent the carefully polished nail. She bit her lips to stop a cry
of pain, and shrinking back within the folds of her dainty lace
embroidered nightdress, abandoned herself to despair. Her consciousness
of the Unknown Presence increased, and she instinctively felt the thing
pass through the closed door, down on to the landing outside, when it
dashed upstairs with a loud clatter, and, entering the lumber-room
immediately overhead, began bounding as if its feet were tied together,
backwards and forwards across the floor. After continuing for fully
half an hour, the noises abruptly ceased and the house resumed its
accustomed quiet. At breakfast, Mrs. Gordon asked her daughters if they
had heard anything in the night, and they laughingly said "No, not even
a mouse!"

There was now an intermission of the disturbances, and no further
demonstration occurred for about a month. Diana was then sleeping in
her mother's room, Mrs. Gordon being away on a visit to Lady Voss, who
was entertaining a party of friends at her shooting-box in Argyle. One
evening, as Diana was going into her bedroom to prepare for dinner,
she saw the door suddenly swing open, and something, she could not
tell what--it was so blurred and indistinct--come out with a bound.
Tearing past her on to the landing, it rushed up the stairs with so
much clatter that Diana imagined, though she could see nothing, that
it must have on its feet, heavy lumbering boots. Filled with an
irresistible curiosity, in spite of her alarm, Diana ran after it,
and, on reaching the upper storey, heard it making a terrific racket
in the room above the one in which she now slept. Nothing daunted,
however, she boldly approached, and, flinging open the door, perceived
its filmy outline standing before a shadowy and very antique eight-day
clock, which apparently it was in the habit of winding. A great fear
now fell on Diana. What was the thing? And supposing it should turn
round and face her, what should she see? She was entirely isolated
from her sisters, and the servants--alone--the light fading--in a big,
gloomy room full of strange old furniture which suggested
hiding-places for all sorts of grim possibilities. She was assured now
that the thing she had followed was nothing human, neither was it a
delusion, for when she shut her eyes and opened them, it was still
there--and, oddly enough, it was now more distinct than it was when
she had seen it downstai