again occasionally from street to street, till his voice died away in
the distance. At this moment I was seized with an indefinable sensation
of dread. I would have run after the watchman, but the rain deterred me.
He, too, might have sung of something else than exactly of that fearful
hour of night--

"When tombs do yawn and graves yield up their dead."

I did not feel at all comfortable. I was, notwithstanding, just about to
nestle myself up again in the corner, and once more close my eyes, when
they lighted on two, tall, meagre forms, whom I immediately recognised
by their garb as chairmen. There was something mysterious in their
movements, as if they were consulting on matters of grave import--of
their discourse I could understand nothing--and their voices sounded to
me, in the chair, something like the noise made by a brush when drawn
over the surface of a sheet of paper. I was considering what might be
the result of all this, when they suddenly seized hold of the chair, and
marched off. I ought now indeed to have called out to them, but partly
from a curiosity to discover the cause of this singular nocturnal
ramble, and partly from a fear of being roughly treated for my
obtrusiveness, I was induced to remain quietly in my corner. My weight
did not seem to attract their notice; but how great was my astonishment
on observing that my bearers were carrying me, in unvarying circles,
round the market place, though at every turn they contracted the space
they traversed--and that the usual heavy-sounding tread of the chairmen
was changed for a noiseless, gliding pace. I looked out to see whether
they had not drawn off their boots, but I was soon convinced by the
evidence of my eyes that their heavy boots were in unison with the rest
of the customary apparel of that class. Their evolutions now became
gradually narrower, and I, in the same proportion, more anxious and