swallowed up all other thoughts. Cousin Statia had taken
the candle, but it was a bright, moonlight night, and the beautiful
moonbeams that came dancing in and formed a perfect network upon the
floor, made the room almost as light as day. It was not very warm
weather, but I felt the perspiration pouring down, while I trembled in
every limb. My eyes were fixed with a sort of fascination on the
opposite wall, where the shadow of a figure seemed to pass and repass;
and every time it arrived at a certain point, there was a sort of a kick
up, as though with the feet behind. I looked all around, as soon as I
dared to, but everything was still except the tormenting shadow. I
scarcely breathed, but kept watching the queer figure, till I was almost
ready to faint from cowardice. I tried to reason with myself--and called
to mind how my father had endeavored to banish this weakness; how one
night on being afraid to go into the cellar, he had himself gone with
me and examined every corner, to convince me that there was nothing to
fear; and under the impulse of these reflections I sprang out of bed,
determined to investigate the mystery. I went in every part of the room;
I examined the window, the curtains, but nothing was to be seen, while
the figure still continued its movements; and almost sick, I returned to
bed, to lie and watch the shadow. All sorts of queer stories rushed into
my head; I tried to forgot them and think of something else, but it was
impossible. The movement was slow, regular, and punctual.

At last I could stand it no longer; I rushed to the window, determined
to stay there till the mystery was explained, for I felt convinced that
I should find it there. I directed my eyes piercingly to every part of
the curtains; and at length I perceived that the window had been let
down at the top. I closed it, arranged the curtains differently, and
then, in some trepidation, returned to my shadow. It had disappeared;
and I now understood that the formidable figure was merely a part of the
curtain, which, influenced by the night wind, swayed to and fro,
causing the shadow on the wall.

I do not think I ever experienced a cowardly feeling afterwards; that
night perfectly satisfied me that superstition was the most unreasonable
torture that could be inflicted on oneself; and I was ever afterwards
celebrated for my bravery. Even my father praised my conduct, and said
that it was pretty well for a girl of ten years, under such