Ricardo carried a lighted taper, and matches, which he was careful to secure in his pocket, for it was like a vault they entered. The sombre hangings which enveloped the apartment, shutting out both light and air, and the musty smell which came from them, mingled with the stale scent of the incense, made the place feel uncanny. Ricardo walked up to the cushions on the floor, and told Steinberg to seat himself on one of them. Having deposited himself beside him, and set alight to the incense, he blew out the candle, and the wreathing smoke which ascended from the bowl was the only illumination in the room. Steinberg began to feel uneasy, notwithstanding his vaunted incredulity. The German nation is famous for its many tales and legends of ghostly lore, and however our reason may seem to disprove their authenticity, our faith is prone to cling to the truths which have been instilled into our minds during childhood. As he watched the smoke curling up towards the ceiling, Steinberg felt unusually cold--the little room seemed to fill with a chilly wind which blew upon his face and hands--and the silence which his companion maintained served to increase the gloom. “May we not talk?” he whispered, presently, to Ricardo. “Certainly, if you feel so inclined,” returned the Professor, “but for myself, the occasion always seems so solemn, that I can only hold commune with my own thoughts and think of--her!” “And you are not in the least alarmed?” inquired the Doctor, who had felt his companion leaning very hard against his shoulder, as if for confidence and support. “Not in the slightest. I am awed--but not frightened,” was the reply. “Why, then, do you lean so hard against me?” said Steinberg. “I am not touching you,” replied Ricardo, “I am too far away! I am not seated on the cushion now, but in the centre of the room.” “Not seated on the cushion?” repeated Steinberg. “Then--in God’s Name!--_who is?_” “How can I tell? I have already said that I am not near you! Doubtless one of the spirits who visit me, is anxious to convince you of his identity. Speak to him, Steinberg! As yet, I have been unable to make them speak to me! You may be more successful.” But the Doctor had already rolled off the cushion towards the door. “Let me out!” he cried, “I will not stay here a moment longer! I told you when you first made this infamous proposal to me, that it was diabolical!--that none but evil spirits could be induced to hold communication with men. And this must have been a devil, I am sure of it, else he would have had the decency to give me some warning, before sitting down beside me. Open the door, Professor! I have been brought up a Lutheran, and my Church forbids all such practices as these. I refuse to stay in this room any longer!”