“Oh, what is it! This place is full of devils!” she cried, shaking as with an ague fit.
“My dear wife!” he said, in surprise and concern to see her shudder so fearfully, to hear her speak so wildly.
“It is, I tell you, full of devils, Lyon!” she repeated with chattering teeth.
There chanced to be a little wine in their stores. He went and poured some into a glass and brought it to her, made her drink it.
“Now then, tell me what has thrown you into this state? What has happened to terrify you so much? another dream, vision, apparition? what?” he inquired, as he took from her hand the empty glass.
“Oh, no, no, no! no dream, no vision, nothing of that sort. It was too dark to see anything, you know; but oh! it was something so ghastly and horrible that I shall never, never get over it!” she exclaimed, while shudder after shudder shook her frame.
“Tell me,” he said soothingly.
“Oh, it was a damp girl!” she cried.
“A damp girl!” he echoed in amazement and alarm; for he almost feared his dear wife was going crazy.
“Oh yes, a damp girl! A clay-cold, clammy, corpse-like form of a girl!”