uite quietly; and she went on with her
reading, partly in silence, partly aloud; but both modes seemed equally
intended for herself alone. The prohibition, however, only increased my
desire to see; and as she took no further notice, I gently opened the
door to its full width, and looked in. At first, I saw nothing worthy
of attention. It seemed a common closet, with shelves on each hand, on
which stood various little necessaries for the humble uses of a cottage.
In one corner stood one or two brooms, in another a hatchet and other
common tools; showing that it was in use every hour of the day for
household purposes. But, as I looked, I saw that there were no shelves
at the back, and that an empty space went in further; its termination
appearing to be a faintly glimmering wall or curtain, somewhat less,
however, than the width and height of the doorway where I stood. But,
as I continued looking, for a few seconds, towards this faintly luminous
limit, my eyes came into true relation with their object. All at once,
with such a shiver as when one is suddenly conscious of the presence of
another in a room where he has, for hours, considered himself alone, I
saw that the seemingly luminous extremity was a sky, as of night, beheld
through the long perspective of a narrow, dark passage, through what, or
built of what, I could not tell. As I gazed, I clearly discerned two or
three stars glimmering faintly in the distant blue. But, suddenly, and
as if it had been running fast from a far distance for this very point,
and had turned the corner without abating its swiftness, a dark figure
sped into and along the passage from the blue opening at the remote end.
I started back and shuddered, but kept looking, for I could not help it.
On and on it came, with a speedy approach but delayed arrival; till, at
last, through the many gradations of approach, it seemed to come within
the sphere of myself, rushed up to me, and passed me into the cottage.
All I could tell of its appearance was, that it seemed to be a dark
human figure. Its motion was entirely noiseless, and might be called a
gliding, were it not that it appeared that of a runner, but with ghostly
feet. I had moved back yet a little to let him pass me, and looked round
after him instantly. I could not see him.

"Where is he?" I said, in some alarm, to the woman, who still sat
reading.

"There, on the floor, behind you," she said, pointing with her arm
half-outstretched, but not