The shape was very like her master. The saints between us and harm! The
glow was reflected back from the interior of the press, and showed the
front part of the figure in profile with a sharp line of light. She said
he had some sort of thick slippers over his boots, a dark coat, with the
cape buttoned, and a hat flapping over his face; coat and hat and all,
sprinkled over with snow.
As if he heard the rustle of the curtain, he turned toward the bed, and
with an awful ejaculation she cried, ''Tis you, Sir!'
'Don't stir, and you'll meet no harm,' he said, and over he posts to the
bedside, and he laid his cold hand on her wrist, and told her again to
be quiet, and for her life to tell no one what she had seen, and with
that she supposed she swooned away; for the next thing she remembered
was listening in mortal fear, the room being all dark, and she heard a
sound at the press again, and then steps crossing the floor, and she
gave herself up for lost; but he did not come to the bedside any more,
and the tread passed out at the door, and so, as she thought, went down
stairs.
In the morning the press was locked and the door shut, and the hall-door
and back-door locked, and the keys on the hall-table, where they had
left them the night before.
Pages:
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608