“Upon my word,” said Christian, “a disagreeable apparition enough! I believe if I had been in your place, I should certainly have sworn, or broken something! Did this last long?”
“I don’t know; it seemed to me that it would never end. I shut my eyes again to lose sight of it; and when I reopened them, the spectre was moving towards the side of the bed. I can scarcely describe its further movements. It seemed as if it were opening the curtains, and bending down to speak to some being whom it saw there—invisible save to those ghastly eyes. Then it turned as if to open the window; though it did not really open it. And finally, it returned towards me. By this time I had somewhat recovered myself, and tried to make a deliberate examination of the face; but this was more than I could do. I could see nothing but those great dead eyes—it seemed as if I were powerless to remove my own from them. Besides, the phantom now passed me quickly. If it noticed me at all, it did not seem irritated or disturbed by my presence. It flitted uncertainly along the room; tried to return to the stairs, and appeared unable to find them. Then the fleshless hands began to feel along the walls, and suddenly it disappeared. Again a rush of wind ran whistling through the room, and rang in my ears; it ceased, and as, during the whole of this experience, I had been perfectly conscious of being in my right mind, I perceived at once the cessation of the unaccustomed sounds, together with the disappearance of the fantastic image.
“I felt of myself—there was no doubt as to my identity. I pinched my hand, and felt it perfectly. I looked at the bottle of rum, but I had hardly made a beginning upon it. Evidently I was neither in a trance nor intoxicated. Indeed, I no longer felt even an emotion of terror, and very coolly said to myself that I must have been asleep standing. I finished my pipe while reflecting upon the affair, and even indulged my imagination so far as to half wish to undergo another such hallucination, so that I might try to overcome it; but the phenomenon was not repeated, and I went very quietly to bed. It was some time before I fell asleep, but I experienced no other inconvenience.”
“But then,” said Christian, “what should have made you so uncomfortable just now, when you were only thinking the matter over?”
“Why, because the mind is so constituted, I suppose. There are emotional reactions. By hearing of delusions, you may become a little deluded yourself. Twice already, to-day, I have recalled stories of this kind, that are certainly either fables or dreams, and yet which embody great and mysterious moral truths.”
“How is that, M. Goefle?”
“Good heavens! it happened to my own father, who, like myself, was an advocate and professor of law, to see the ghost of a man who had been unjustly condemned to death more than ten years before, and who called upon him for justice to his despoiled children, and for the rehabilitation of his own memory. He saw this spectre at the foot of a gibbet which he was passing. He looked into the affair, found that the phantom had told the truth, instituted proceedings, and gained his cause. Doubtless the ghost was an illusion, but it was an appeal to my father’s conscience. Now, whence came that appeal? From the grave? Certainly not. From heaven? Who knows?”
“Well, M. Goefle, what do you conclude as to the apparition of last night?”
“Nothing at all, my dear friend, but I am none the less troubled, every little while, with the idea that the Baroness Hilda may perhaps have been the victim of a calumny, and that God has given permission, not that her soul should visit me, but that my own mind should be so strongly impressed with the recollection of her, as to bring her image before my eyes, and thus influence me to make researches into the truth of the matter.”
“But what was the charge brought against this famous baroness, then?”