i AT DAWN OF DAY 3 



with renewed energy, and now and then 

 summons the north wind to its aid and 

 bangs its doors in loud discordant protest. 

 But now the little feet and merry voices 

 are still, for it is the hour before the dawn. 

 Even the old house, as though it has pro- 

 tested enough, is sinking into slumber. 



But lo, at the end of the passage appears 

 a glimmer of light just sufficient to deepen 

 the gloom. It approaches, and a dim figure 

 seems to accompany it. What is it ? Is it 

 a Will-o'-the-Wisp imprisoned for its evil 

 deeds by the monks of long ago ? Is it that 

 strange thing, a corpse - candle, that link 

 with another world, whose appearance be- 

 tokens that death has set his icy grip on one 

 of them that are in the house ? No, as it 

 comes nearer it is evidently no more mystic 

 thing than a bedroom-candle, and the figure 

 that accompanies it is the figure of a man. 

 A burglar, think you ? It may be, for he 

 moves most cautiously. But alas for his 

 caution, a fearful clangour resounds through 

 the house ; the man, whatever he be, has 

 dropped something which bids fair to have 

 aroused all the sleepers. See, he stands 

 motionless and hardly dares to breathe. 



