"Then I took the thing in my hand, and unfolded it."
After a few moments I located the place where the thing had been put, and eagerly I hurried thither.
Yes, there was the black box as I had seen it before. It seemed as though it had never been moved since the hour when Father Solomon had put it back. Feverishly I took it, and then looked fearfully around me, because even then I fancied that watchful eyes might be upon me. But there was nothing.
Holding the box in one hand, and the candle in the other, I remember thinking that my best plan was to get out into the open air, where I could again examine its contents. But I was too impatient for this. Propping my candle between two stones I got down on my knees, and prepared to open it, but I stopped with a start and a shudder.
I could have sworn that I heard a cackling mocking laugh close to my ears, and again I looked fearfully around. But there was nought to be seen, and so still had all things become that the silence seemed to make a noise.
"It is nought but my fancy," I said aloud, and I shivered at the sound of my own voice. Also many wild fancies flitted across my mind. I thought I saw Lucy Walters change from a beauteous nut-brown maid, with skin fair and smooth, and altogether lovely to behold, into a hideous corrupt-looking hag. She shook a leprous finger at me, and leered mockingly into my face. Again also I thought I heard the mocking cackle of old Father Solomon, which seemed to arouse all sorts of unearthly wails.
"It's nought but my fancy," I again repeated aloud, and this time the sound of my voice gave me courage. I no longer feared unearthly visitants. The thing was in my hands, and I would examine it.