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 each other and shook their head with great significance; but when they had explained briefly that they had seen that which Mrs. Legge saw, namely, "Death on a pale horse," they were silent; and thus they remained until half-past one, when Pokey, who had his reasons for making a move, suggested the propriety of parting—a suggestion upon which they almost immediately acted, and thoughtfully repaired to their respective homes.

During the progress of these extraordinary proceedings, Jones, who felt that he was victimized, had swallowed on compulsion four bottles of that beverage which he abhorred, and sat dwelling on the problem he had proposed having reference to cold boiling water, while the reverend gentleman was reading the romance.

Up to half-past two they had not been disturbed. They had heard no noise—with the exception of that which reached the reverend gentleman's ears while opening the first bottle of soda-water—and as all around them then continued silent as the grave, they began to think that nothing at all calculated to call forth the courage they had in them would occur.

About three o'clock, however, while the reverend gentleman was absorbed in a soul-stirring chapter of the romance, he imagined that he heard the outer gate close, and started.

"What's that?" exclaimed Jones.

"Hush! hush!" cried the reverend gentleman. "Listen!"

They did listen, and distinctly heard footsteps on the path.

"Shall I go to the window?" said Jones.

"No! no!" cried the reverend gentleman. "Let us hear how they attempt to get in. Keep your seat and be silent. Now, hark!"

At that moment they saw the handle of the door move.

"Who's there?" cried the reverend gentleman in a whisper, which startled both Jones and himself.

No answer was returned, but again the handle moved, and then the door opened gradually, and then a tall figure, enveloped in a sheet, slowly entered the room.

"Angels of light protect us!" exclaimed the reverend gentleman, while Jones, who appeared to be at once deprived of life, dropped in an instant upon the rug and hid his face.

Of these proceedings, the figure took no notice. It walked slowly to the sideboard, and having looked for a moment, shook its head, as if to indicate that there was nothing at all there that it wanted, and then turned and left the room as slowly as it had entered.

The feelings experienced by the reverend gentleman then were awful. He sank back in his chair, and for the first time felt that no one knows what he would do until placed in the position to do that which he conceives he should do. His heart had never before quailed, but it then sank within him. He seemed fixed to the spot—completely spell-bound. Nor was it until some time after the figure, which he conceived to be a spirit, had disappeared, that he summoned sufficient courage to speak to Jones, who had given himself altogether up for lost.

"Jones," said he, at length, in a scarcely audible whisper, which made