I unbarred the shutters: the window looked on the little back yard I
have before described; there was no ledge without, nothing but sheer
descent. No man getting out of that window would have found any footing
till he had fallen on the stones below.
F---- meanwhile was vainly attempting to open the door. He now turned
round to me and asked my permission to use force. And I should here
state, in justice to the servant, that, far from evincing any
superstitious terror, his nerve, composure, and even gayety amidst
circumstances so extraordinary, compelled my admiration, and made me
congratulate myself on having secured a companion in every way fitted to
the occasion. I willingly gave him the permission he required. But,
though he was a remarkably strong man, his force was as idle as his
milder efforts; the door did not even shake to his stoutest kick.
Breathless and panting, he desisted. I then tried the door myself,
equally in vain. As I ceased from the effort, again that creep of horror
came over me; but this time it was more cold and stubborn. I felt as if
some strange and ghastly exhalation were rising from the chinks of that
rugged floor and filling the atmosphere with a venomous influence
hostile to human life. The door now very slowly and quietly opened as of
its own accord. We precipitated ourselves into the landing-place. We
both saw a large, pale light--as large as the human figure, but
shapeless and unsubstantial--move before us and ascend the stairs that
led from the landing into the attics. I followed the light, and my
servant followed me. It entered, to the right of the landing, a small
garret, of which the door stood open. I entered in the same instant. The
light then collapsed into a small globule, exceedingly brilliant and
vivid; rested a moment on a bed in the corner, quivered, and vanished.
We approached the bed and examined it,--a half-tester, such as is
commonly found in attics devoted to servants. On the drawers that stood
near it we perceived an old faded silk kerchief, with the needle still
left in the rent half repaired. The kerchief was covered with dust;
probably it had belonged to the old woman who had last died in that
house, and this might have been her sleeping-room. I had sufficient
curiosity to open the drawers; there were a few odds and ends of female
dress, and two letters tied round with a narrow ribbon of faded yellow.
I took the liberty to possess myself of the letters. We found nothing
else in the room worth noticing, nor did the light reappear; but we
distinctly heard, as we turned to go, a pattering footfall on the floor
just before us. We went through the other attics (in all four), the
footfall still preceding us. Nothing to be seen, nothing but the
footfall heard. I had the letters in my hand; just as I was descending
the stairs I distinctly felt my wrist seized, and a faint, soft effort
made to draw the letters from my clasp. I only held them the more
tightly, and the effort ceased.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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