curiously in spite of my effort to keep
myself at a matter-of-fact phase. They seemed to belong to another age,
an older age, an age when things spiritual were indeed to be feared,
when common sense was uncommon, an age when omens and witches were
credible, and ghosts beyond denying. Their very existence, thought I, is
spectral; the cut of their clothing, fashions born in dead brains; the
ornaments and conveniences in the room about them even are ghostly--the
thoughts of vanished men, which still haunt rather than participate in
the world of to-day. And the passage I was in, long and shadowy, with
a film of moisture glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold as a
thing that is dead and rigid. But with an effort I sent such thoughts
to the right-about. The long, drafty subterranean passage was chilly and
dusty, and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The
echoes rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping
up after me, and another fled before me into the darkness overhead. I
came to the wide landing and stopped there for a moment listening to a
rustling that I fancied I heard creeping behind me, and then, satisfied
of the absolute silence, pushed open the unwilling baize-covered door
and stood in the silent corridor.

The effect was scarcely what I expected, for the moonlight, coming in by
the great window on the grand staircase, picked out everything in vivid
black shadow or reticulated silvery illumination. Everything seemed in
its proper position; the house might have been deserted on the yesterday
instead of twelve months ago. There were candles in the sockets of
the sconces, and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the
polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in my
candlelight. A waiting stillness was over everything. I was about to
advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group stood upon the landing
hidden from me by a corner of the wall; but its shadow fell with
marvelous distinctness upon the white paneling, and gave me the
impression of some one crouching to waylay me. The thing jumped upon
my attention suddenly. I stood rigid for half a moment, perhaps. Then,
with my hand in the pocket that held the revolver, I advanced, only
to discover a Ganymede and Eagle, glistening in the moonlight. That
incident for a time restored my nerve, and a dim porcelain Chinaman on a
buhl table, whose head rocked as I passed, scarcely startled me.

The