or jarred and trembled, and the table and
chairs were jolted off their feet. Instinctively, I jerked away my legs,
whenever the invisible planks fell too near them.

It never came into my mind to charge the family with being the authors
of these phenomena: their care and distress were too evident. There was
certainly no other human being but myself in or near the shanty.
My senses of sight and touch availed me nothing, and I confined my
attention, at last, to simply noting the manifestations, without
attempting to explain them. I began to experience a feeling, not of
terror, but of disturbing uncertainty. The solid ground was taken from
beneath my feet.

Still the man and his wife groaned and muttered, as if in a nightmare
sleep, and the boy tossed restlessly on his low bed. I would not disturb
them, since, by their own confession, they were accustomed to the
visitation. Besides, it would not assist me, and, so long as there was
no danger of personal injury, I preferred to watch alone. I recalled,
however, the woman's remarks, remembering the mysterious blame she had
thrown upon her husband, and felt certain that she had adopted some
explanation of the noises, at his expense.

As the confusion continued, with more or less violence, sometimes
pausing for a few minutes, to begin again with renewed force, I felt an
increasing impression of somebody else being present. Outside the shanty
this feeling ceased, but every time I opened the door I fully expected
to see some one standing in the centre of the room. Yet, looking through
the little windows, when the noises were at their loudest, I could
discover nothing. Two hours had passed away since I first heard the
drum-beat, and I found myself at last completely wearied with my
fruitless exertions and the unusual excitement. By this time the
disturbances had become faint, with more frequent pauses. All at once,
I heard a long, weary sigh, so near me that it could not have proceeded
from the sleepers. A weak moan, expressive of utter wretchedness,
followed, and then came the words, in a woman's voice,--came I know not
whence, for they seemed to be uttered close beside me, and yet far, far
away,--"How great is my trouble! How long shall I suffer? I was married,
in the sight of God, to Eber Nicholson. Have mercy, O Lord, and give him
to me, or release me from him!"

These were the words, not spoken, but rather moaned forth in a slow,
monotonous wail of utter helplessness and