nature of this object. I had ascended the hill little more than
half way, when a voice called me from behind. The accents were
clear, distinct, powerful, and were uttered, as I fully
believed, by my wife. Her voice is not commonly so loud. She
has seldom occasion to exert it, but, nevertheless, I have
sometimes heard her call with force and eagerness. If my ear
was not deceived, it was her voice which I heard.

"Stop, go no further. There is danger in your path." The
suddenness and unexpectedness of this warning, the tone of alarm
with which it was given, and, above all, the persuasion that it
was my wife who spoke, were enough to disconcert and make me
pause. I turned and listened to assure myself that I was not
mistaken. The deepest silence succeeded. At length, I spoke in
my turn. Who calls? is it you, Catharine? I stopped and
presently received an answer. "Yes, it is I; go not up; return
instantly; you are wanted at the house." Still the voice was
Catharine's, and still it proceeded from the foot of the stairs.

"What could I do? The warning was mysterious. To be uttered
by Catharine at a place, and on an occasion like these, enhanced
the mystery. I could do nothing but obey. Accordingly, I trod
back my steps, expecting that she waited for me at the bottom of
the hill. When I reached the bottom, no one was visible. The
moon-light was once more universal and brilliant, and yet, as
far as I could see no human or moving figure was discernible.
If she had returned to the house, she must have used wondrous
expedition to have passed already beyond the reach of my eye.
I exerted my voice, but in vain. To my repeated exclamations,
no answer was returned.