room, who knew the trick of
the secret spring in the wall, who entered the old wardrobe, and
performed this ghastly, this appalling trick on Sir Henry Studley? I
resolved that I would say nothing to Sir Henry of my fresh discovery
until after I had spent another night in the haunted room.
Accordingly, I slipped the key of the wardrobe once more into my pocket
and went downstairs.
I had my way again that night. Once more I found myself the sole
occupant of the haunted room. I put out the light, sat on the edge of
the bed, and waited the issue of events. At first there was silence and
complete darkness, but soon after one o'clock I heard the very slight
but unmistakable tick-tick, which told me that the apparition was about
to appear. The ticking noise resembled the quaint sound made by the
death spider. There was no other noise of any sort, but a quickening of
my pulses, a sensation which I could not call fear, but which was
exciting to the point of pain, braced me up for an unusual and horrible
sight. The light appeared in the dim recess of the wardrobe. It grew
clear and steady, and quickly resolved itself into one intensely bright
circle. Out of this circle the eye looked at me. The eye was unnaturally
large--it was clear, almost transparent, its expression was full of
menace and warning. Into the circle of light presently a shadowy and
ethereal hand intruded itself. The fingers beckoned me to approach,
while the eye looked fixedly at me. I sat motionless on the side of the
bed. I am stoical by nature and my nerves are well seasoned, but I am
not ashamed to say that I should be very sorry to be often subjected to
that menace and that invitation. The look in that eye, the beckoning
power in those long, shadowy fingers would soon work havoc even in the
stoutest nerves. My heart beat uncomfortably fast, and I had to say over
and over to myself, "This is nothing more than a ghastly trick." I had
also to remind myself that I in my turn had prepared a trap for the
apparition. The time while the eye looked and the hand beckoned might in
reality have been counted by seconds; to me it seemed like eternity. I
felt the cold dew on my forehead before the rapidly waning light assured
me that the apparition was about to vanish. Making an effort I now left
the bed and approached the wardrobe. I listened intently. For a moment
there was perfect silence. Then a fumbling noise was distinctly audible.
It was followed by a muffled cr
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