Besides, how the deuce had I seen it
It required some nerve, I can tell you, to go to my haunted chamberext night, and lie down quietly in the same bed, continued Tom. I didso with a degree of trepidation, which, I am not ashamed to say, a verylittle matter would have sufficed to stimulate to downright panic. Thisnight, however, passed off quietly enough, as also the next; and so toodid two or three more. I grew more confident, and began to fancy thatbelieved in the theories of spectral illusions, with which I had at firstvainly tried to impose upon my convictionsThe apparition had been, indeed, altogether anomalous. It hadossed the room without any recognition of my presence: I had not disturbed it, and it had no mission to me. what, then, was the imaginableuse of its crossing the room in a visible shape at all? Of course it mighthave been in the closet instead of going there, as easily as it introduced it-self into the recess without entering the chamber in a shape discernibleby the senses. Besides, how the deuce had I seen it?
It was a dark night:had no candle there was no fire and vet I saw it as distinctly in colour.ing and outline, as ever I beheld human form! A cataleptic dream wouldexplain it all; and I was determined that a dream it should beOne of the most remarkable phenomena connected with the practiceof mendacity is the vast number of deliberate lies we tell ourseleswhom, of all persons, w'e can least expect to deceive. In all this, I needhardly tell you, Dick, I was simply lying to myself, and did not believeone word of the wretched humbug. Yet I went on, as men will do, likepersevering charlatans and impostors, who tire people into credulity bythe mere force of reiteration; so I hoped to win myself over at last to acomfortable scepticism about the ghost.He had not appeared a second time-that certainly was a comfortand what. afterd I care for him, and his queer old toggery andstrange looks? Not a fig! I was nothing the worse for having seen him.and a good story the better. So I tumbled into bed, put out my candleand, cheered by a loud drunken quarrel in the back lane, w'ent fastasleep.From this deep slumber I awoke with a start. I knew I hadhad a hor-rible dream: but what it was I could not remember. My heart wasthumping furiously: I felt bewildered and feverish; I sate up in the bedand looked about the room. A broad flood of moonlight came in throughthe curtainless window; everything was as I had last seen it; and thoughthe domestic squabble in the back lane was, unhappily for me, allayed, Iyet could hear a pleasant fellow singing, on his way home, the then pop-ular comic ditty called, Murphy Delany. Taking advantage of this diver-sion I lay down again, with my face towards the fireplace, and closingmy eyes, did my best to think of nothing else but the song, which wasevery moment growing fainter in the distance-
"Twas Murphy Delany, so funny and frisky,Stept into a shebeen shop to get his skin full;He reeled out again pretty well lined with whiskey,As fresh as a shamrock, as blind as a bull.The singer, whose condition I dare say resembled that of his herowas soon too far off to regale my ears any more; and as his music diedaway, I myself sank into a doze, neither sound nor refreshing. Somehowthe song had got into my head, and I went meandering on through theadventures of my respectable fellow-countryman, who, on emergingfrom the shebeen shop, fell into a river, from which he was fished up tobe sat upon by a coroners jury, who having learned from a horse-doetor that he was dead as a door-nail, so there was an end, returned theirverdict accordingly, just as he returned to his senses, when an angry altercation and a pitched battle between the body and the coroner windsup the lay with due spirit and pleasantryThrough this ballad I continued with a weary monotony todown to the very last line, and then da capo, and so on,uncomfortable half-sleep, for how long, I can't conjecture I foundat last, however, muttering, dead as a door-nail, so there was an end; andsomething like another voice within me, seemed to say, very faintly, busharply, dead! dead! dead! and may the Lord have mercy on your soulland instantaneously I was wide awake, and staring right before me fromhe billNow-will you believe it, Dick?-I saw the same accursed figurestanding full front, and gazing at me with its stony and fiendish counten-ance, not two yards from the bedsideTom stopped here, and wiped the perspiration from his face. I felt veryqueer. The girl was as pale as Tom; and, assembled as we were in thevery scene of these adventures, we were all, I dare say, equally gratefulfor the clear daylight and the resuming bustle out of doorsFor about three seconds only I saw it plainly; then it grew indistinctbut, for a long time, there was something like a column of dark vapourwhere it had been standing, between me and the wall; and I felt sure thathe was still there. After a good while, this appearance went too. I tookmy clothes downstairs to the hall, and dressed there, with the door halfopen; then went out into the street, and walked about the town till mom-ng, when I came back, in a miserable state of nervousness and exhaus-tion. I was such a fool, Dick, as to be ashamed to tell you how I came tobe so upset. I thought you would laugh at me; especally as I had alwaystalked philosophy, and treated your ghosts with contempt. I concludedyou would give me no quarter; and so kept my tale of horror to myself
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