'But, in the month wherein I was forced out of this life--this
present month of thirty days--the Bride's Chamber is empty and
quiet. Not so my old dungeon. Not so the rooms where I was
restless and afraid, ten years. Both are fitfully haunted then.
At One in the morning. I am what you saw me when the clock struck
that hour--One old man. At Two in the morning, I am Two old men.
At Three, I am Three. By Twelve at noon, I am Twelve old men, One
for every hundred per cent. of old gain. Every one of the Twelve,
with Twelve times my old power of suffering and agony. From that
hour until Twelve at night, I, Twelve old men in anguish and
fearful foreboding, wait for the coming of the executioner. At
Twelve at night, I, Twelve old men turned off, swing invisible
outside Lancaster Castle, with Twelve faces to the wall!

'When the Bride's Chamber was first haunted, it was known to me
that this punishment would never cease, until I could make its
nature, and my story, known to two living men together. I waited
for the coming of two living men together into the Bride's Chamber,
years upon years. It was infused into my knowledge (of the means I
am ignorant) that if two living men, with their eyes open, could be
in the Bride's Chamber at One in the morning, they would see me
sitting in my chair.

'At length, the whispers that the room was spiritually troubled,
brought two men to try the adventure. I was scarcely struck upon
the hearth at midnight (I come there as if the Lightning blasted me
into being), when I heard them ascending the stairs. Next, I saw
them enter. One of them was a bold, gay, active man, in the prime
of life, some five and forty years of age; the other, a dozen years