"I was at the top in a moment, on the level where she stood leaning over
the handrail. Turning, I approached her. Apparently, she neither saw nor
heard me. 'Well acted!' I said to myself--but even then I was beginning
to be afraid, without knowing why. Every man's impulse, I fancy, is to
go right up to anything that frightens him--at least, I have always
found it so. I walked close up to the woman. She moved her head and
turned in my direction, but only as if about to go away. Whether she
looked at me I can not tell, but I saw her eyes plain enough. By this
time, I suppose, the idea of a ghost must have been uppermost, for,
being now quite close to her, I put out my hand as if to touch her. _My
hand went through her--through her head and body!_ I am not joking in
the least; I mean you to believe, if you can, exactly what I say. What
then she did, or whether she took any notice of my movement, I can not
tell; I only know what I did, or rather what I did not do. For, had I
been capable, I should have uttered a shriek that would have filled the
house with ghastliest terror; but there was a load of iron on my chest,
and the hand of a giant at my throat. I could not help opening my mouth,
for something drew all the muscles of my jaws and throat, but I could
not utter a sound. The horror I was in, was entirely new to me, and no
more under my control than a fever. I only wonder it did not paralyze
me, that I was able to turn and run down the stair! I ran as if all the
cardinal sins were at my heels. I flew, never seeming to touch the
stairs as I went. I darted along the passage, burst into my room, shut
and locked the door, lighted my candles, fell into a chair, shuddered,
and began to breathe again."

He ceased, not without present signs of the agitation he described.

"But that's not all!"