I followed in the direction of the mansion, which was large, and of several styles and ages. One wing appeared especially ancient. It seemed neglected and out of repair, and had in consequence a desolate, almost sepulchral look, heightened by a number of large cypresses growing along its line. I went up to the central door and knocked. It was opened by a grave elderly butler. I passed under its flat arch, as if into the midst of the waiting events of my story. As I glanced around the hall, my consciousness was suddenly saturated, if I may be allowed the expression, with that strange feeling—known to every one, and yet so strange—that I had seen it before; that, in fact, I knew it perfectly. But what was yet more strange, and far more uncommon, was, that, although the feeling with regard to the hall faded and vanished instantly, and although I could not in the least surmise the appearance of any of the regions into which I was about to be ushered, I yet followed the butler with a kind of indefinable expectation of seeing something which I had seen before; and every room or passage in that mansion affected me, on entering it for the first time, with the same sensation of previous acquaintance which I had experienced with regard to the hall. This sensation, in every case, died away at once, leaving that portion as strange both to eyes and mind as it might naturally be expected to look to one who had never before crossed the threshold of the hall. I was received by the housekeeper, a little prim benevolent old lady, with colourless face and antique head-dress, who led me to the room which had been prepared for me. To my surprise, I found a large wood fire burning on the hearth; but the feeling of the place revealed at once the necessity for it; and I scarcely needed to be informed that the room, which was upon the ground floor, and looked out upon a little solitary grass-grown and ivy-mantled court, had not been used for years, and required to be thus prepared for an inmate. The look of ancient mystery about it, was to me incomparably more attractive than any elegance or comfort of an ordinary kind. My bedroom was a few paces down a passage to the right. Left alone, I proceeded to make a more critical survey of my room. It was large and low, panelled in oak throughout, which was black with age, and worm-eaten in many parts—otherwise entire. Both the windows looked into the little court or yard before mentioned. All the heavier furniture of the room was likewise of black oak, but the chairs and couches were covered with faded tapestry and tarnished gilding, and seemed to be the superannuated members of the general household of seats. I could give an individual description of each variety, for every atom in that room large enough to be possessed of discernible shape or colour seems branded into my brain. If I happen to have the least feverishness upon me, the moment I fell asleep, I am in that room.