A GHOST STORY. 217 



Straining the floors and joists till they creaked again as it passed — and then silence 

 reigned once more. 



When my excitement had calmed, I said to myself, " This is a dream — simply a 

 hideous dream." And so I lay thinking it over until I convinced myself that it 

 was a dream, and then a comforting laugh relaxed my lips, and I was happy again. 

 I got up and struck a light ; and when I found that the locks and bolts were just as 

 I had left them, another soothing laugh welled in my heart and rippled from my 



lips. I took my pipe and lit it, and was just sitting down before the fire, when 



down went the pipe out of my nerveless fingers, the blood forsook my cheeks, and 

 my placid breathing was cut short with a gasp ! In the ashes on the hearth, side 

 by side with my own bare footprint, was another, so vast that in comparison mine 

 was but an infant's ! Then I had had a visitor, and the elephant tread was explained. 



I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a long time, 

 peering into the darkness, and listening. Then I heard a grating noise overhead, 

 like the dragging of a heavy body across the floor ; then the throwing down of the 

 body, and the shaking of my windows in response to the concussion. In distant 

 parts of the building I heard the muffled slamming of doors. I heard, at interval*, 

 stealthy footsteps creeping in and out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. 

 Sometimes these noises approached my doo.r, hesitated, and went away again. I 

 heard the clanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened while the 

 clanking grew nearer — while it wearily climbed the stairways, marking each move 

 by the loose surplus of chain that fell with an accented rattle upon each succeeding 

 step as the goblin that bore it advanced. I heard muttered sentences ; half-uttered 

 screams that seemed smothered violently ; and the swish of invisible garments, the 

 rush of invisible wings. Then I became conscious that my chamber was invaded — 

 that I was not alone. I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious 

 whisperings. Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on the 

 ceiling directly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and then dropped 

 — two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They spattered, liquidly, 

 and felt warm. Intuition told me they had turned to gouts of blood as they fell — 

 I needed no light to satisfy myself of that. Then I saw pallid faces, dimly 

 luminous, and white uplifted hands, floating bodiless in the air, — floating a moment 



