one others were there. It was probably waiting for the last
guest. At length we reached the house, and were walking immediately
under the bright light of the drawing-room windows, when suddenly the
door of the house opened, and a familiar voice sounded, speaking in
loud, eager, hilarious tones.

At the sound of that voice my companion stopped, and staggered back,
and then stood rigid with, her head thrust forward.

It was Jack's voice.

"Thanks," he said. "Ha! ha! ha! You're awfully kind, you know. Oh, yes.
I'll be here to-morrow night. Good-by. Good-by."

He rushed down the steps. The door closed. He sprang into the sleigh.
It started ahead in an opposite direction, and away it went, till the
jangle of the bells died out in the distance, amid the storm.

All was still. The street was deserted. The storm had full possession.
The lights of the house flashed out upon the snowdrifts, and upon the
glittering, frozen sleet.

For a moment my companion stood rooted to the spot. Then snatching her
arm from mine, she flung up her hand with a sudden gesture, and tore my
cloud down from off my face. The lights from the windows shone upon me,
revealing my features to her.

The next instant her arms fell. She staggered back, and with a low moan
of heart-broken anguish, she sank down prostrate into the snow.

Now hitherto there had been on my mind a current of superstitious
feeling which had animated most of my wild fancies. It had been
heightened by the events of my wanderings. The bowl of the storm, the
voice of the dark river, the clangor of the midnight bell, the shadowy
figure at the doorway--all these circumstances had combined to
stimulate my imagination and disorder my brain. But now, on my arrival
at this house, these feelings had passed away. These signs of
commonplace life--the jangling sleigh-bells, the lighted windows, the
departing company--had roused me, and brought me to myself. Finally,
there came the sound of Jack's voice, hearty, robust, healthy, strong--
at the sound of which the dark shadows of my mind were dispelled. And
it was at this moment, when all these phantasms had vanished, that my
companion fell senseless in the snow at my feet.

I stooped down full of wonder, and full too of pity. I raised her in my
arms. I supported her head on my shoulder. The storm beat pitilessly;
the stinging sleet pelted my now uncovered face; the lights of the
house shone out upon the form of my companion. All the stre