Through passage after passage we came to a door at the bottom of
a winding wooden stair, which we ascended. Every step creaked under
my foot, but I heard no sound from that of my guide. Somewhere in
the middle of the stair I lost sight of him, and from the top of it
the shadowy shape was nowhere visible. I could not even imagine I
saw him. The place was full of shadows, but he was not one of them.

I was in the main garret, with huge beams and rafters over my head,
great spaces around me, a door here and there in sight, and long
vistas whose gloom was thinned by a few lurking cobwebbed windows
and small dusky skylights. I gazed with a strange mingling of awe
and pleasure: the wide expanse of garret was my own, and unexplored!

In the middle of it stood an unpainted inclosure of rough planks,
the door of which was ajar. Thinking Mr. Raven might be there, I
pushed the door, and entered.

The small chamber was full of light, but such as dwells in places
deserted: it had a dull, disconsolate look, as if it found itself
of no use, and regretted having come. A few rather dim sunrays,
marking their track through the cloud of motes that had just been
stirred up, fell upon a tall mirror with a dusty face, old-fashioned
and rather narrow--in appearance an ordinary glass. It had an ebony
frame, on the top of which stood a black eagle, with outstretched
wings, in his beak a golden chain, from whose end hung a black ball.

I had been looking at rather than into the mirror, when suddenly
I became aware that it reflected neither the chamber nor my own
person. I have an impression of having seen the wall melt away,
but what followed is enough to account for any uncertainty:--could