Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 4).djvu/513

 and, now that my mind had regained its normal condition of calm, the pangs of hunger were returning with renewed insistence.

My sufferings were now of so practical and matter-of-fact a nature that I could afford to laugh at my previous "ado about nothing"; and so utterly had my imaginary alarms fled that I found myself calmly contemplating a prowl below, in the hope that if the beef had been removed, I might at least lay hands on something eatable, which the tired servants had left to be cleared away in the morning.

Drawing my wrap closely about me, and arming myself with candle and matches (still, thank Heaven! in the plural), I opened my door, and peered cautiously around before sallying forth on my voyage of discovery. All was profoundly still, and I ventured out, finding my way easily enough to the sliding door, which, to my astonishment and delight, was not so difficult to open as I had fancied it might be. A little fumbling and prodding, and by good luck, I hit upon the spring at once, and passed through. All was now plain sailing, and I pushed on; but how cheerless and changed everything was! How feeble the light of my solitary candle compared with the glare which had previously brightened up the old hall, and shed its lustre on the crisp holly and evergreen decorations that now loomed sombre and dark from its corners.

There was something oppressive in the profound silence which renewed my uneasy qualms. Silence, did I say? What was that? I could have sworn to a distinct, though faint, rustling behind me—nay, my excited fancy created for me a stealthy footfall, as well as a smothered sigh. I came to a dead standstill, peering breathlessly around, till the fancy died away again. What folly! All was as still as death, and I could plainly hear my own heart thumping absurdly against my ribs. Once more my fears of I knew not what subsided, and, hurrying on again, I gained the deserted supper-room, there to behold my friend, the beef, in all his glory. I made for that beef without loss of time, and seizing the carving-knife which lay by its side, I looked round for a moment among the littered glass and china for a resting-place for the candle.

While doing so I chanced to raise my eyes to the long looking-glass behind the sideboard, and remained frozen with horror, gazing at the sight that there met my view. Merciful Heaven! what does it mean?

A woman stood there, clothed in a long, loose robe of crimson, her beautiful hair in the wildest confusion over her shoulders, and her bare feet flashing white against the red. But the face! It was exquisitely beautiful, but never had it been my lot to witness such a wild, frenzied expression on any countenance. Its startled, hunted look filled me with a terrible fascination, and I was literally incapable of removing my eyes. Hers, with an agonized horror in them impossible to describe, were fixed on my features, and, as she slowly advanced towards me, I gathered up the remnant of my scattered nerve, turned and faced her.

As I did so, a change of lightning swiftness passed over her whole demeanour. She paused; then, smiling slightly, advanced again until we were within a couple of feet of each other; her eyes fell, and she was calmness itself. But the bewildering trans-