graphic
reminiscences seemed to call up the ghosts of those to whom they
referred. So strong was the impression on some of the more imaginative
hearers that two or three were seized with trembling fits at one and
the same moment, protesting that they had distinctly heard three other
raps of the iron knocker.

"Impossible!" exclaimed others. "See! The moon shines beneath the
porch, and shows every part of it except in the narrow shade of that
pillar. There is no one there."

"Did not the door open?" whispered one of these fanciful persons.

"Didst thou see it too?" said his companion, in a startled tone.

But the general sentiment was opposed to the idea that a third
visitant had made application at the door of the deserted house. A
few, however, adhered to this new marvel, and even declared that a red
gleam like that of a torch had shone through the great front window,
as if the negro were lighting a guest up the staircase. This too was
pronounced a mere fantasy.

But at once the whole multitude started, and each man beheld his own
terror painted in the faces of all the rest.

"What an awful thing is this!" cried they.

A shriek too fearfully distinct for doubt had been heard within the
mansion, breaking forth suddenly and succeeded by a deep stillness, as
if a heart had burst in giving it utterance. The people knew not
whether to fly from the very sight of the house or to rush trembling
in and search out the strange mystery. Amid their confusion and
affright they were somewhat reassured by the appearance of their
clergyman, a venerable patriarch, and equally a saint, who had taught
them and their fathers the way to heaven for more than the space of an
ordinary lifetime. He was a reverend figure with long white hair upon
his shoulders, a white beard upon his breast and a back so bent over
his staff that he seemed to be looking downward continually, as if to
choose a proper grave for his weary frame. It was some time before the
good old man, being deaf and of impaired intellect, could be made to
comprehend such portions of the affair as were comprehensible at all.
But when possessed of the facts, his energies assumed unexpected
vigor.

"Verily," said the old gentleman, "it will be fitting that I enter the
mansion-house of the worthy Colonel Fenwicke, lest any harm should
have befallen that true Christian woman whom ye call the 'Old Maid in
the Winding-Sheet.'"

Behold, then, the venerable clergyman ascending