aylight. For
three years the strange old gentleman never missed a night at his work.
I fear you are not quite well, young lady. Take a glass of water."
Pet sipped from the proffered glass, and declared that she was much
better now,
"One night, about two years ago, I took a look into this room with my
spyglass. I generally didn't do it until three or four o'clock in the
mornin', when all the other lights in the neighborhood was out. But, on
that partickler night, about eleven o'clock, I happened to observe that
one of the window curtains which covered the lower sash was left partly
undrawn. This had never occurred before, and so I brought my glass to
bear on the room at once. A tall gentleman, whose face I had often seen
movin' in the room over the top o' the curtain, was just in the act of
takin' his departure, which he did without shakin' hands. The old man
then went to his place at the other window, and tackled to his work
again. He had been at it about twenty minutes, when a bar, or rod, which
stuck up above the curtain, and was somehow connected with his work,
fell forward with a quick motion, as if it was jerked away. The old man
stooped, picked it up, and fixed it in its place again. His face, as
well as I could see through my glass in the night time, at that
distance, showed a wonderful amount of surprise and astonishment--at the
fall of this rod or bar, I s'pose. He then seemed to be filin' on
somethin', and afterward stooped down, as if to put it into some part of
the machine, or whatever it was. Jest at that minute the Post Office
struck, and I put down my glass, and turned my head toward the sound, to
catch the district. It struck seven. I jumped to the lever, and started
the old bell for seven, too. As I was strikin' the first round, my eyes
happened to rest on the strange window again. The old man was not
standin' there. The bar, or rod, had fallen out of its place again, I
s'posed, and I expected every minute to see the old man appear at the
window, and fix it again. But he didn't show himself any more that
night--and (which is the curious part of my story) I've never seen him
since. Whether he dropped dead from heart disease, I can't guess; but
certain I am that he is dead, for--"
Poor Pet here exhibited such signs of faintness, that Bog, who had been
leaning against the edge of the window, gazing at the well-known window
with a strange fascination, sprang to her side, and instantly bathed her
brow
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