I went then to the room-door, which I opened, and peered into the passage, nearly faint with horror lest some leering, shapeless thing should greet me upon the threshold.
When I had gazed long enough to assure myself that no strange object was within sight,—
“I have been too much of a rake lately; I am racking out my nerves,” said I, speaking aloud, with a view to reassure myself.
I rang the bell, and, attended by old Martha, I retired to settle for the night.
While the servant was—as was her custom—arranging the lamp which I have already stated always burned during the night in my chamber, I was employed in undressing, and, in doing so, I had recourse to a large looking-glass which occupied a considerable portion of the wall in which it was fixed, rising from the ground to a height of about six feet; this mirror filled the space of a large panel in the wainscoting opposite the foot of the bed.
SOMETHING LIKE A BLACK PALL WAS SLOWLY WAVED.
I had hardly been before it for the lapse of a minute when something like a black pall was slowly waved between me and it.
“Oh, God! there it is,” I exclaimed, wildly. “I have seen it again, Martha—the black cloth.”
“God be merciful to us, then!” answered she, tremulously crossing herself. “Some misfortune is over us.”