the blackest oak; and the general effect of all this, augmented, if
anything, by the windows, which were too high and narrow to admit of
much light, was much the same as that produced by the interior of a
subterranean chapel or charnel house.

"From the hall proceeded doorways and passages, more than my memory can
now particularize. Of these portals, one at each end conducted to the
tower stairs, others to reception rooms and domestic offices.

"The whole of the house being too large for us, only one wing--the right
and newer of the two--was occupied, the other was unfurnished, and
generally shut up. I say generally because there were times when either
my mother or father--the servants never ventured there--forgot to lock
the doors, and the handles yielding to my daring fingers, I
surreptitiously crept in.

"Everywhere--even in daylight, even on the sunniest of mornings--were
dark shadows that hung around the ingles and recesses of the rooms, the
deep cupboards, the passages, and silent, winding staircases.

"There was one corridor--long, low, vaulted--where these shadows
assembled in particular. I can see them now, as I saw them then, as they
have come to me many times in my dreams, grouped about the doorways,
flitting to and fro on the bare, dismal boards, and congregated in
menacing clusters at the head of the sepulchral staircase leading to the
cellars. Generally, and excepting at times when the weather was
particularly violent, the silence here was so emphatic that I could
never feel it was altogether natural, but rather that it was assumed
especially for my benefit--to intimidate me. If I moved, if I coughed,
almost if I breathed, the whole passage was filled with hoarse