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As； however； it was not yet near the time when ghosts are to be
expected； and as he felt very tired； he drank one glass of the wine；
and throwing himself on the couch； drew Euphra's shawl over him；
opened his book； and began to read。 But the words soon vanished in
a bewildering dance； and he slept。
He started awake in that agony of fear in which I suppose most
people have awaked in the night； once or twice in their lives。 He
felt that he was not alone。 But the feeling seemed； when he
recalled it； to have been altogether different from that with which
we recognise the presence of the most unwelcome bodily visitor。 The
whole of his nervous skeleton seemed to shudder and contract。 Every
sense was intensified to the acme of its acuteness； while the powers
of volition were inoperative。 He could not move a finger。
The moment in which he first saw the object I am about to describe；
he could not recall。 The impression made seemed to have been too
strong for the object receiving it； destroying thus its own traces；
as an overheated brand…iron would in dry timber。 Or it may be that；
after such a pre…sensation； the cause of it could not surprise him。
He saw； a few paces off； bending as if looking down upon him； a face
which； if described as he described it； would be pronounced as far
past the most liberal boundary…line of art； as itself had passed
beyond that degree of change at which a human countenance is fit for
the upper world no longer； and must be hidden away out of sight。
The lips were dark； and drawn back from the closed teeth； which
were white as those of a skull。 There were spotsin fact； the face
corresponded exactly to the description given by Funkelstein of the
reported ghost of Lady Euphrasia。 The dress was point for point
correspondent to that in the picture。 Had the portrait of Lady
Euphrasia been hanging on the wall above； instead of the portrait of
the unknown nun； Hugh would have thought； as far as dress was
concerned； that it had come alive； and stepped from its
frameexcept for one thing： there was no ring on the thumb。
It was wonderful to himself afterwards； that he should have observed
all these particulars； but the fact was； that they rather burnt
themselves in upon his brain； than were taken notice of by him。
They returned upon him afterwards by degrees； as one becomes
sensible of the pain of a wound。
But there was one sign of life。 Though the eyes were closed； tears
flowed from them； and seemed to have worn channels for their
constant flow down this face of death； which ought to have been
lying still in the grave； returning to its dust； and was weeping
above ground instead。 The figure stood for a moment； as one who
would gaze； could she but open her heavy； death…rusted eyelids。
Then； as if in hopeless defeat； she turned away。 And then； to
crown the horror literally as well as figuratively； Hugh saw that
her hair sparkled and gleamed goldenly； as the hair of a saint
might； if the aureole were combed down into it。 She moved towards
the door with a fettered pace； such as one might attribute to the
dead if they walked；to the dead body； I say； not to the living
ghost； to that which has lain in the prison…hold； till the joints
are decayed with the grave…damps； and the muscles are stiff with
more than deathly cold。 She dragged one limb after the other slowly
and； to appearance； painfully； as she moved towards the door which
Hugh had locked。
When she had gone half…way to the door； Hugh； lying as he was on a
couch； could see her feet； for her dress did not reach the ground。
They were bare； as the feet of the dead ought to be； which are
about to tread softly in the realm of Hades； But how stained and
mouldy and iron…spotted； as if the rain had been soaking through the
spongy coffin； did the dress show beside the pure whiteness of those
exquisite feet！ Not a sign of the tomb was upon them。 Small；
living； delicately formed； Hugh； could he have forgot the face they
bore above； might have envied the floor which in their nakedness
they seemed to caress； so lingeringly did they move from it in their
noiseless progress。
She reached the door； put out her hand； and touched it。 Hugh saw it
open outwards and let her through。 Nor did this strike him as in
the smallest degree marvellous。 It closed again behind her；
noiseless as her footfalls。
The moment she vanished； the power of motion returned to him； and
Hugh sprang to his feet。 He leaped to the door。 With trembling
hand he inserted the key； and the lock creaked as he turned it。
In proof of his being in tolerable possession of his faculties at
the moment； and that what he was relating to me actually occurred；
he told me that he remembered at once that he had heard that
peculiar creak； a few moments before Euphra and he discovered that
they were left alone in this very chamber。 He had never thought of
it before。
Still the door would not open： it was bolted as well； and the bolt
was very stiff to withdraw。 But at length he succeeded。
When he reached the passage outside； he thought he saw the glimmer
of a light； perhaps in the picture…gallery beyond。 Towards this he
groped his way。He could never account for the fact； that he left
the candles burning in the room behind him and went forward into the
darkness； except by supposing that his wits had gone astray； in
consequence of the shock the apparition had occasioned them。When
he reached the gallery； there was no light there； but somewhere in
the distance he saw； or fancied； a faint shimmer。
The impulse to go towards it was too strong to be disputed with。 He
advanced with outstretched arms； groping。 After a few steps； he had
lost all idea of where he was； or how he ought to proceed in order
to reach any known quarter。 The light had vanished。 He stood。Was
that a stealthy step he heard beside him in the dark？ He had no
time to speculate； for the next moment he fell senseless。
CHAPTER XXV。
NEXT MORNING。
Darkness is fled： look； infant morn hath drawn
Bright silver curtains 'bout the couch of night；
And now Aurora's horse trots azure rings；
Breathing fair light about the firmament。
Stand； what's that？
JOHN MARSTON。Second Part of Antonio and Mellida。
When he came to himself； it was with a slow flowing of the tide of
consciousness。 His head ached。 Had he fallen down stairs？or had
he struck his head against some projection； and so stunned himself？
The last he remembered wasstanding quite still in the dark； and
hearing something。 Had he been knocked down？ He could not
tell。Where was he？ Could the ghost have been all a dream？ and
this headache be nature's revenge upon last night's wine？For he
lay on the couch in the haunted chamber； and on his bosom lay the
book over which he had dropped asleep。
Mingled with all this doubt； there was another。 For he remembered
that； when consciousness first returned； he felt as if he had seen
Euphra's face bending down close over his。Could it be possible？
Had Euphra herself come to see how he had fared？The room lay in
the grey light of the dawn； but Euphra was nowhere visible。 Could
she have vanished ashamed through the secret door？ Or had she been
only a phantasy； a projection outwards of the form that dwelt in his
brain； a phenomenon often occurring when the last of sleeping and
the first of waking are indistinguishably blended in a vague
consciousness？
But if it was so； then the ghost？what of it？ Had not his brain；
by the events of the preceding evening； been similarly prepared with
regard to it？ Was it not more likely； after all； that she too was
the offspring of his own imaginationthe power that makes
imagesespecially when considered； that she exactly corresponded to
the description given by the Bohemian？But had he not observed many
points at which the Count had not even hinted？Still； it was as
natural to expect that an excited imagination should supply the
details of a wholly imaginary spectacle； as that； given the idea of
Euphra's presence； it should present the detail of her countenance；
for the creation of that which is not； belongs as much to the realm
of the imagination； as the reproduction of that which is。
It seemed very strange to Hugh himself； that he should be able thus
to theorize； before even he had raised himself from the couch on
which； perhaps； after all； he had lain without moving； throughout
that terrible night； swarming with the horrors of the dead that
would not sleep。 But the long unconsciousness； in which he had
himself visited the regions of death； seemed to have restored him；
in spite of his aching head； to perfect mental equilibrium。 Or； at
least； his brain was quiet enough to let his mind work。 Still； he
felt very ghastly within。 He raised himself on his elbow； and
looked into the room。 Everything was the same as it had been the
night before； only with an altered aspect in the dawn…light。 The
dawn has a peculiar terror of its own； sometimes perhaps even more
real in character； but very different from the terrors of the night
and of candle…light。 The room looked as if no ghost could have
passed through its still old musty atmosphere； so perfectly
reposeful d