the room for the speaker, but in vain. I went then to the room-door,
which I opened, and peered into the passage, nearly faint with horror,
lest some leering, shapeless thing should greet me upon the threshold.
When I had gazed long enough to assure myself that no strange object
was within sight.

"I have been too much of a rake, lately; I am racking out my nerves,"
said I, speaking aloud, with a view to reassure myself. I rang the
bell, and, attended by old Martha, I retired to settle for the night.
While the servant was, as was her custom, arranging the lamp which I
have already stated always burned during the night in my chamber,
I was employed in undressing, and, in doing so, I had recourse to a
large looking-glass which occupied a considerable portion of the wall
in which it was fixed, rising from the ground to a height of about
six feet; this mirror filled the space of a large pannel in the
wainscoting opposite the foot of the bed. I had hardly been before it
for the lapse of a minute, when something like a black pall was slowly
waved between me and it.

"Oh, God! there it is," I exclaimed wildly. "I have seen it again,
Martha--the black cloth."

"God be merciful to us, then!" answered she, tremulously crossing
herself. "Some misfortune is over us."

"No, no, Martha," said I, almost instantly recovering my
collectedness; for, although of a nervous temperament, I had never
been superstitious. "I do not believe in omens. You know, I saw, or
fancied I saw, this thing before, and nothing followed."