ng, which were fast presenting the startling
appearance of being overhung with an impenetrable pall, such a pall as
forms the gloomy coverlet of a hearse; the similarity being increased by
waving plume-like shadows that suddenly appeared--from God knows
where!--on the floor and wall.

"That the room was genuinely haunted I had not now the slightest doubt,
for the atmosphere was charged to the very utmost with superphysical
impressions--the impressions of a monstrous hearse, with all the sickly
paraphernalia of black flowing drapery and scented pine wood.

"I was annoyed with William Achrow. I had wanted to see him; I had
wanted to meet the Kirlbys; but a ghost--no! Honestly, candidly--no! I
had not slept well for nights, and after the good things I had eaten at
dinner and that excellent vintage, I had been looking forward to a
sound, an unusually sound sleep. Now, however, my hopes were dashed on
the head--the room was haunted--haunted by something gloomily, damnably
evil, evil with an evilness that could only have originated in hell.
Such were my impressions when I got into bed. Contrary to my
expectations, I soon fell asleep. I was awakened by a creak, the loud
but unmistakable creak of a chair. Now, the creaking of furniture is no
uncommon thing. There are few of us who have not at some time or other
heard an empty chair creak, and attributed that creaking either to
expansion of the wood through heat, or to some other equally physical
cause. But are we always right? May not that creaking be sometimes due
to an invisible presence in the chair? Why not? The laws that govern
the superphysical are not known to us at present. We only know from our
own experiences and from the compiled testimony of various reputable
Research Societies that there is a superphysical, and that the
superphysical is a fact which is acknowledged by several of the greatest
scientists of the day.

"But to continue. The creaking of a chair roused me from my sleep. I sat
up in bed, and as my eyes wandered involuntarily to the ebony chair to
which I have already alluded, I again heard the creaking.

"My sense of hearing now became painfully acute, and, impelled by a
fascination I could not resist, I held my breath and listened. As I did
so, I distinctly heard the sound of stealthy respiration. Either the
chair or something in it was breathing, breathing with a subtle
gentleness.

"The fire had now burned low; only a glimmer, the very faintest
p