mi The Dark Figure : [Dkc 



vith the idea, to enable him to turn into action a thought which startles 

 the mind like the stab of a daffger. 



Yet, a^ain did the busy demon within me whisper the question — No 

 more ? The spark of intelligence had fled from those closed eyes ; and 

 the voice had passed away from the frozen lips ; but the spirit which, Ijy 

 so unaccountable an art, had thus converted thought into sound, ideas 

 into words — whither had it withdrawn ? I shuddered at the question. 

 I began to feel faint. I kncM' that it was weakness — and weakness as 

 much of the body as of the mind, but I could not help it. The myste- 

 rious connection which hr.d once existed between matter and immateria- 

 lity was renewed in my fancy ; the limbs moved ; the lips opened ; the 

 head was raised from its pillow. 



The brancli of a tree arrested my progress as I staggered along the 

 avenue ; and I almost sunk to the ground with an indefinite feeling. 

 While disengaging mj'self, a soft, low, purring sound crept out from the 

 hedge ; and, by an uncontrollable instinct, I bent my eyes upon the 

 spot. The intensity of my gaze produced some of those self-emitted, or 

 altogether imaginary sparks of light, which we sometimes see flashing 

 in the dark, and my imagination was beginning to play some horrible 

 and fantastic tricks, when, by a sudden exertion of fortitude, mingled 

 with a feeling of sliame, I struck my hand fiercely upon the rebellious 

 members, and, turning away my head, pursued my journey. 



The wind had now fallen from a continuous breeze into fitful squalls, 

 which swept at long intervals from the dark cold heavens. Almost shel- 

 tered from their effects by the umbrageous canopy under which I walked, 

 I could yet hear distinctly tlie wild swelling moan which arose as the 

 gust broke upon the trees ; and this Mas sometimes followed by a whirl 

 of dry leaves rising up by my side — a phenomenon which a cooler 

 imagination than mine might have pictured as a spirit flying shrieking 

 through the grove. 



It is necessary to confess, before relating what follows, that some such 

 idea had just passed through my mind. I knciv that the sound I heard 

 was but the voice of the night wind as it swept through the foliage, and 

 that the almost unseen object, which had arisen in my path, was nothing 

 more than a heap of dry leaves suddenly startled from their repose. A 

 feeling of involuntary terror, notwithstanding, usurped the place of rea- 

 son, a cold perspiration burst iqion my forehead ; and, at the apparition 

 o^ the leaves, called up, as if by magical incantation, the spirit of ray 

 dead uncle passed before me! Do not mistake me. This was doubtless 

 a trick of the imagination — I mention it, merely, because I wish to de- 

 scribe correctly the state of my mind — because I would deal fairly with- 

 the subject before me. I had, as it were, two sets of senses, and I was 

 able to distinguish between them. The appearance of the jDhantom might 

 have been an illusion ; but the sound of his footsteps was a reality ! 

 I heard them as distinctly as I hear this pen moving along the paper in 

 the silence of my midnight room. The sound suddenly ceased, and, at 

 the moment, I felt an intense conviction, that the appearance, the spirit, — 

 the what j'ou please — was again before me, although hidden from my 

 eyes ; that it was approaching slowly but steadily — in fine, that.it would 

 again be revealed to my sight. 



It would not have been wonderful if imagination had realized the 

 event it foretold. The wonder is that it did not. The sound of the 

 sloAv and measured footsteps returned, mingled with the moaning of the 



