words if he could. He had said them, however,
and I took them up quickly.

"With what? What is your trouble?"

"It is very difficult to impart, sir. It is very, very, difficult to
speak of. If ever you make me another visit, I will try to tell you."

"But I expressly intend to make you another visit. Say, when shall it
be?"

"I go off early in the morning, and I shall be on again at ten to-morrow
night, sir."

"I will come at eleven."

He thanked me, and went out at the door with me. "I'll show my white
light, sir," he said, in his peculiar low voice, "till you have found the
way up. When you have found it, don't call out! And when you are at the
top, don't call out!"

His manner seemed to make the place strike colder to me, but I said no
more than "Very well."

"And when you come down to-morrow night, don't call out! Let me ask you
a parting question. What made you cry 'Halloa! Below there!' to-night?"

"Heaven knows," said I. "I cried something to that effect--"

"Not to that effect, sir. Those were the very words. I know them well."

"Admit those were the very words. I said them, no doubt, because I saw
you below."

"For no other reason?"

"What other reason could I possibly have!"

"You had no feeling that they were conveyed to you in any supernatural
way?"

"No."

He wished me good night, and held up his light. I walked by the side of
the down Line of rails (with a very disagreeable sensation of a train
coming behind me), until I found the path. It was easier to mount than
to descend, and I got back to my inn without any adventure.

Punctual to my appointment, I placed my foot on the first notch of the
zig-zag next night, as the distant clocks were striking eleven. He was
waiting for me at the bottom, with his white light on. "I have not
called out," I said, when we came close together; "may I speak now?" "By
all means, sir." "Good night then, and here's my hand." "Good night,
sir, and here's mine." With that, we walked side by side to his box,
entered it, closed the door, and sat down by the fire.

"I have made up my mind, sir," he began, bending forward as soon as we
were seated, and speaking in a tone but a little above a whisper, "that
you shall not have to ask me twice what troubles me. I took you for some
one else yesterday evening. That troubles me."

"That mistake?"

"No. That some one else."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

"Like me?"

"I don't kn