he most memorable night in its history; the one
in which Mrs. Jeffrey's remarkable death occurred there. The
interest roused in me by the unexpected recurrence of the old
fatality attending the library hearthstone reached its culmination
when I perceived one night the glint of a candle burning in the
southwest chamber. I did not know who was responsible for this
light, but I strongly suspected it to be Mr. Jeffrey; for who else
would dare to light a candle in this disused house without first
seeing that all the shutters were fast? I did not dislike Mr.
Jeffrey or question his right to do this. Nevertheless I was very
angry. Though allied to a Moore he was not one himself and the
difference in our privileges affected me strongly. Consequently I
watched till he came out and upon positively recognizing his figure
vowed in my wrath and jealous indignation to visit the old house
myself on the following night and make one final attempt to learn
the secret which would again make me the equal of this man, if not
his superior.

"It was early when I went; indeed it was not quite dark, but knowing
the gloom of those old halls and the almost impenetrable nature of
the darkness that settles over the library the moment the twilight
set in, I put in my pocket two or three candles, sirs, about which
you have made such a coil. My errand was twofold. I wanted first
to see what Mr. Jeffrey had been up to the night before, and next,
to spend an hour over a certain book of old memoirs which in
recalling the past might explain the present. You remember a door
leading into the library from the rear room. It was by this door
I entered, bringing with me from the kitchen the chair you afterwards
found there."

I knew where the volume of memoirs I speak of was to be found--you
do, too, I see--for it was my hand which had placed it in its
present concealment. Quite determined to reread such portions of
it, as I had long before marked as pertinent to the very attempt I
had in mind, I brought in the candelabrum from the parlor and drew
out a table to hold it. But I waited a few moments before taking
down the book itself. I wanted first to learn what Mr. Jeffrey had
been doing upstairs the night before. So leaving the light burning
in the library, I proceeded to the southwest chamber, holding an
unlit candle in my hand, the light feebly diffused through the
halls from some upper windows being sufficient for me to see my way.
But in