Fearing, however, that the train of thought into which I fell might
unsteady my nerves, I fully determined to keep my mind in a fit
state to cope with whatever of marvelous the advancing night might
bring forth. I roused myself; laid the letters on the table;
stirred up the fire, which was still bright and cheering; and
opened my volume of Macaulay. I read quietly enough till about
half past eleven. I then threw myself dressed upon the bed, and
told my servant he might retire to his own room, but must keep
himself awake. I bade him leave open the door between the two
rooms. Thus alone, I kept two candles burning on the table by my
bed head. I placed my watch beside the weapons, and calmly resumed
my Macaulay. Opposite to me the fire burned clear; and on the
hearth rug, seemingly asleep, lay the dog. In about twenty minutes
I felt an exceedingly cold air pass by my cheek, like a sudden
draught. I fancied the door to my right, communicating with the
landing place, must have got open; but no,--it was closed. I then
turned my glance to my left, and saw the flame of the candles
violently swayed as by a wind. At the same moment the watch beside
the revolver softly slid from the table,--softly, softly; no
visible hand,--it was gone. I sprang up, seizing the revolver with
the one hand, the dagger with the other; I was not willing that my
weapons should share the fate of the watch. Thus armed, I looked
round the floor,--no sign of the watch. Three slow, loud, distinct
knocks were now heard at the bed head; my servant called out, "Is
that you, sir?"

"No; be on your guard."

The dog now roused himself and sat on his haunches, his ears moving