think. Afterward, when I had done so, however, and handled it a little,
this feeling passed away and my Reason (and also, I expect, the daylight)
made me feel that I had been a little bit of an ass. Quite natural,
though, I assure you! Yet it was a new kind of fear to me. I'm taking no
notice of the cheap joke about the ass! I am talking about the
curiousness of learning in that moment a new shade or quality of fear
that had hitherto been outside of my knowledge or imagination. Does it
interest you?

"I examined the dagger, minutely, turning it over and over in my hands
and never--as I suddenly discovered--holding it loosely. It was as if I
were subconsciously surprised that it lay quiet in my hands. Yet even
this feeling passed, largely, after a short while. The curious weapon
showed no signs of the blow, except that the dull color--of the blade was
slightly brighter on the rounded point that had cut through the armor.

"Presently, when I had made an end of staring at the dagger, I went up
the chancel step and in through the little gate. Then, kneeling upon the
altar, I replaced the dagger in its sheath, and came outside of the rail
again, closing the gate after me and feeling awarely uncomfortable
because the horrible old weapon was back again in its accustomed place. I
suppose, without analyzing my feelings very deeply, I had an unreasoned
and only half-conscious belief that there was a greater probability of
danger when the dagger hung in its five century resting place than when
it was out of it! Yet, somehow I don't think this is a very good
explanation, when I remember the _demure_ look the thing seemed to have
when I saw it lying on the floor of the chancel. Only I know this, that
when I had replaced the dagger I had quite a touch of nerves and I
stopped only to pick up my lantern from where I had placed it whilst I
examined the weapon, after which I went down the quiet aisle at a pretty