p."
I watched the dawn slowly breaking. From where I lay I could see through
the window the high mound of rough stones and fragments of rock that I
have described. At its foot there was a low wall loosely constructed of
these same unhewn blocks, and the shapes that evolved themselves out
of this wall, beside which grew two or three stunted trees, were more
grotesque and extraordinary than I could describe. They varied like
the colours in a kaleidoscope with the wavering and increasing light.
At one time it seemed to me that one of the trees was a gipsy woman
enveloped in a cloak, extending her arm towards me threateningly; at
another, two weird dogs seemed to be fighting together; but however
fantastic and fearsome had been these strange effects of light and fancy
mingled together, I should not have minded--I knew what they were; it
was a relief to have anything to look at which could keep my eyes from
constantly turning in the direction of that black iron stove.
I fell asleep at last, though not for long. When I woke it was bright
morning--fresher and brighter, I felt, as I threw open the window, than
the day before. With the greatest thankfulness that the night was over
at last, as soon as I was dressed I began to put our little belongings
together, and then turned to awake the children. Nora was sleeping
quietly; it seemed a pity to arouse her, for it was not much past six,
but I heard the people stirring about downstairs, and I had a feverish
desire to get away; for though the daylight had dispersed much of the
"eerie" impression of Nora's fright, there was a feeling of uneasiness,
almost of insecurity, left in my mind since recalling the incident of
the young man who had visited the china factory. How did I know but that
some harm had really come to him in this very place? There was certainly
nothing about the landlord to inspire confidence. At best it was a
strange and unpleasant coincidence. The evening before I had half
thought of inquiring of the landlord or his wife, or even of Lieschen,
if any English had ever before stayed at the "Katze." If assured by
them that we were the first, or at least the first "in their time," it
would, I thought, help to assure Nora that the ghost had really been a
delusion of some kind. But then, again, supposing the people of the inn
hesitated to reply--supposing the landlord to be really in any way
guilty, and my inquiries were to rouse his suspicions, would I not be
risking
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