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's room opened one night, as he sat late over his work, and Mr Sharnall entered. His face was pale, and there was a startled, wide-open look in his eyes that Westray did not like. "I wish you would come down to my room for a minute," the organist said; "I want to change the place of my piano, and can't move it by myself." "Isn't it rather late to-night?" Westray said, pulling at his watch, while the deep and slow melodious chimes of Saint Sepulchre told the dreaming town and the silent sea-marshes that it lacked but a quarter of an hour to midnight. "Wouldn't it be better to do it to-morrow morning?" "Couldn't you come down to-night?" the organist asked; "it wouldn't take you a minute." Westray caught the disappointment in the tone. "Very well," he said, putting his drawing-board aside. "I've worked at this quite long enough; let us shift your piano." They went down to the ground-floor. "I want to turn the piano right-about-face," the organist said, "with its back to the room and the keyboard to the wall--the keyboard quite close to the wall, with just room for me to sit." "It seems a curious arrangement," Westray criticised; "is it better acoustically?" "Oh, I don't know; but, if I want to rest a bit, I can put my back against the wall, you see." The change was soon accomplished, and they sat down for a moment before the fire. "You keep a good fire," Westray said, "considering it is bed-time." And, indeed, the coals were piled high, and burning fiercely. The organist gave them a poke, and looked round as if to make sure that they were alone. "You'll think me a fool," he said; "and I am. You'll think I've been drinking, and I have. You'll think I'm drunk, but I'm not. Listen to me: I'm not drunk; I'm only a coward. Do you remember the very first night you and I walked home to this house together? Do you remember the darkness and the driving rain, and how scared I was when we passed the Old Bonding-house? Well, it was beginning then, but it's much worse now. I had a horrible idea even then that there was something always following me--following me close. I didn't know what it was--I only knew there was _something_ close behind me." His manner and appearance alarmed Westray. The organist's face was very pale, and a curious raising of the eyelids, which showed the whites of the eyes above the pupils, gave him the staring appearance of one confronted suddenly with some ghastly sp
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