hour; but the poor wife remained
up sitting by the fire, too much grieved and shocked at the occurrence
of what she had so little expected, to settle to rest; fatigue, however,
at length overcame her, and she sank gradually into an uneasy slumber.
She could not tell how long she had remained in this state, when she
awakened, and immediately on opening her eyes, she perceived by the
faint red light of the smouldering turf embers, two persons, one of whom
she recognised as her husband, noiselessly gliding out of the room.

'Pat, darling, where are you going?' said she. There was no answer--the
door closed after them; but in a moment she was startled and terrified
by a loud and heavy crash, as if some ponderous body had been hurled
down the stair. Much alarmed, she started up, and going to the head of
the staircase, she called repeatedly upon her husband, but in vain. She
returned to the room, and with the assistance of her daughter, whom I
had occasion to mention before, she succeeded in finding and lighting a
candle, with which she hurried again to the head of the staircase.

At the bottom lay what seemed to be a bundle of clothes, heaped
together, motionless, lifeless--it was her husband. In going down the
stair, for what purpose can never now be known, he had fallen helplessly
and violently to the bottom, and coming head foremost, the spine at
the neck had been dislocated by the shock, and instant death must have
ensued. The body lay upon that landing-place to which his dream had
referred. It is scarcely worth endeavouring to clear up a single point
in a narrative where all is mystery; yet I could not help suspecting
that the second figure which had been seen in the room by Connell's wife
on the night of his death, might have been no other than his own shadow.
I suggested this solution of the difficulty; but she told me that the
unknown person had been considerably in advance of the other, and on
reaching the door, had turned back as if to communicate something to his
companion. It was then a mystery.

Was the dream verified?--whither had the disembodied spirit sped?--who
can say? We know not. But I left the house of death that day in a state
of horror which I could not describe. It seemed to me that I was scarce
awake. I heard and saw everything as if under the spell of a night-mare.
The coincidence was terrible.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Purcell Papers, by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

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