From that time Mr. Prosser discontinued his angry talk and swearing
about it, and seemed nearly as averse from the subject as the rest of
his family. He grew, in fact, very uncomfortable, feeling an inward
persuasion that when, in answer to the summons, he had opened the
hall-door, he had actually given admission to the besieger.
He said nothing to Mrs. Prosser, but went up earlier to his bed-room,
'where he read a while in his Bible, and said his prayers.' I hope the
particular relation of this circumstance does not indicate its
singularity. He lay awake a good while, it appears; and, as he supposed,
about a quarter past twelve he heard the soft palm of a hand patting on
the outside of the bed-room door, and then brushed slowly along it.
Up bounced Mr. Prosser, very much frightened, and locked the door,
crying, 'Who's there?' but receiving no answer but the same brushing
sound of a soft hand drawn over the panels, which he knew only too well.
In the morning the housemaid was terrified by the impression of a hand
in the dust of the 'little parlour' table, where they had been unpacking
delft and other things the day before.
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