wearing a cloak, the other, I fancied, a woman's, in a sheeny
white dress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garret made
me spring back a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly on
my couch. The summons was repeated.

'Well?' I cried, rising on my elbow, and cursing the untimely
interruption. I was burning with anxiety to see more. 'What is
it? What is the matter?'

The trap-door was lifted a foot or more. The landlord thrust up
his head.

'You called, did you not?' he said.

He held up a rushlight, which illumined half the room and lit up
his grinning face.

'Called--at this hour of the night, you fool?' I answered
angrily. 'No! I did not call. Go to bed, man!'

But he remained on the ladder, gaping stupidly. 'I heard you,'
he said.

'Go to bed! You are drunk,' I answered, sitting up. 'I tell you
I did not call.'

'Oh, very well,' he answered slowly. 'And you do not want
anything?'

'Nothing--except to be left alone,' I replied sourly.