pierced by one tiny keyhole. To
what strange chamber did this terrible door give access? and who was the
mysterious visitor who came here night after night with hushed footsteps
and alone? These were two questions that weighed heavily on my mind,
that troubled me persistently when I lay awake in the dark, and even
refused by day to be put entirely on one side.

By-and-by the mystery deepened. In a recess close to the top of the
flight of stairs that led to the black door was an old-fashioned case
clock. When this clock struck the hour, two small mechanical figures
dressed like German burghers of the sixteenth century came out of two
little turrets, bowed gravely to each other, and then retired, like
court functionaries, backwards. It was a source of great pleasure to me
to watch these figures go through their hourly pantomime But after a
time it came into my head to wonder whether they did their duty by night
as well as by day; whether they came out and bowed to each other in the
dark, or waited quietly in their turrets till morning. In pursuance of
this inquiry, I got out of bed one night after Dance had left me, and
relighted my candle. I knew that it was just on the stroke of eleven,
and here was a capital opportunity for studying the customs of my little
burghers by night. I stole up the staircase with my candle, and waited
for the clock to strike. It struck, and out came the little figures as
usual.

"Perhaps they only came because they saw my light," I said to myself. I
felt that the question as to their mode of procedure in the dark was
still an unsettled one.

But scarcely had the clock finished striking when I was disturbed by the
shutting of a door downstairs. Fearing that someone was coming, and that
the light might betray me, I blew out my candle and waited to hear more.
But all was silent in the house. I turned to go down, but as I did so, I
saw with astonishment that a thin streak of light shone from under the
black door. I stood like one petrified. Was there anyone inside the
room? Listening intently, I waited for full five minutes without
stirring a limb. Silence the most profound upstairs and down. Stepping
on tiptoe, I went back to my room, shut myself in, and crept gladly into
bed.

Next night my curiosity overmastered my fear. As soon as Dance was gone
I crept upstairs in the dark. One peep was enough. As on the previous
night, a thin streak of light shone from under the black door--evidence
tha