dragged from the recesses of my coat pocket, but the letter-paper was harsh and unamenable to fire or reason, and did but smoke and smoke till, through heating and charring, it was gone without consenting to the dawn of a blaze.
The noise had stopped meanwhile, but began again. A soft breathing and a movement like trailing garments. I had no more paper to help me. I must prosecute my investigations in the dark.
For the second time I stumbled to the door. No one there. To the windows. There were four of these, lofty, with blinds within and without. No, no tree branch grew sufficiently near to strike against them. No loose hinge nor ill-hung sash permitted them to waver, no rain fell from the darkened sky to beat against them, but the darkened sky and dreary night allowed no friendly glimmer to penetrate the gloomy recesses of my room, up and down which I navigated, hands and feet both in requisition, with many a halt and more than one threatened shipwreck in a hopeless voyage of discovery.
Nothing but darkness, stillness, and bruises rewarded me. "I am a fool," then said I, with chattering teeth; "My death I shall catch, but a ghost?—no. Let us have done!"
Swash went the something once more.
"Ah ha!" whispered I, with malicious triumph, as I shuffled across the room; "you are there, are you? in the water pitcher? trying to drown yourself? Now I have you!" and I plunged my hand into the pitcher, into the basin, back into the pitcher to its bottom. Nothing there but water, cold and plenteous—nothing found save a wet arm and an additional discomfort—a wet sleeve.
I retreated to the shelter of pillows and blankets, and resolved to give repose to my heavy head and burning eye-balls, though a whole legion of ghosts saw fit to revel in what had once been the abode of some one of their number.
Determination has its rewards. Strained eyeballs and tense head gradually relaxed, frozen body thawed, sleep,
