perfectly clear in my
memory. About 12.20 we went to bed. I had intended to sit up in
No. 8, but found I was not equal to it, and Miss Langton would
not accept my offer of sleeping there with her. She was
therefore there alone, I in No. 5, and Mr. T---- in No. 1. I had
not been many minutes in my room when I heard the familiar loud
crash as of something falling into the hall, under the dome, and
rushed out immediately--the house was perfectly still. We had
left a small lamp burning in the corridor. Mr. T---- said, next
morning, that he had also came out at the sound, but must have
been later than I, as he was just in time to see my door shut.
About twenty minutes after, I heard the shuffling footsteps come
up the stairs, and pause near my door; I opened it, and saw
nothing, but was so definitely conscious of the presence of a
personality, that I addressed it in terms which need not be set
down here, but of which I may say that they were intended to be
of the utmost seriousness, while helpful and encouraging. I may
add, that I knew from experience of the acoustic qualities of
the house, that I should not be audible to those in Nos. 1 or 8.
Absolutely, while I was speaking, the voices we had heard
downstairs became audible again, this time it seemed to me
outside the door of No. 8; they were certainly the same voices,
but seemed to be consciously lowered. (Miss Langton's account
will show that she heard voices and footsteps outside her door
at about this time.) I was asleep before the clock struck two,
but was awakened again about 3.30, and was kept awake for more
than an hour by various sounds in the house. Roughly speaking,
these were of two kinds: one, those of distant clangs and
crashes which we have heard many times in varying intensity,
loudest of all on our first night and on this. The other (more
human in association), knocks at the door, thuds on the lower
panels within, say, two feet of the ground; footsteps, not as
before, but rapid and as of many feet, and again the same
voices. The night was perfectly still, and I could clearly
differentiate the cries of the owl (of two kinds, I think), the
kestrel hawk, and even of the rabbits on the lawn. I went to the
windows and looked out, but the night was quite dark, and the
dawn was grey and misty.

About 5.45 I fell asleep, and did not wake till my tea