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gladness； a face that would blossom the more gloriously because its
joy delayed its coming。 And above it； the tree shone a 〃still；〃
almost 〃awful red；〃 in the level light of the morning。
The vision came and passed； for he did not invite its stay： it
rebuked him to the deepest soul。 He strayed in troubled pleasure；
restless and dissatisfied。 Woods of the richest growth were around
him； heaps on heaps of leaves floating above him like clouds； a
trackless wilderness of airy green； wherein one might wish to dwell
for ever； looking down into the vaults and aisles of the
long…ranging boles beneath。 But no peace could rest on his face；
only； at best； a false mask； put on to hide the trouble of the
unresting heart。 Had he been doing his duty to Harry； his love for
Euphra； however unworthy she might be； would not have troubled him
thus。
He came upon an avenue。 At the further end the boughs of the old
trees； bare of leaves beneath； met in a perfect pointed arch； across
which were barred the lingering colours of the sunset； transforming
the whole into a rich window full of stained glass and complex
tracery； closing up a Gothic aisle in a temple of everlasting
worship。 A kind of holy calm fell upon him as he regarded the dim；
dying colours； and the spirit of the night； a something that is
neither silence nor sound； and yet is like both； sank into his soul；
and made a moment of summer twilight there。 He walked along the
avenue for some distance； and then； leaving it； passed on through
the woods。Suddenly it flashed upon him that he had crossed the
Ghost's Walk。 A slight but cold shudder passed through the region of
his heart。 Then he laughed at himself； and； as it were in despite
of his own tremor； turned； and crossed yet again the path of the
ghost。
A spiritual epicure in his pleasures； he would not spoil the effect
of the coming meeting； by seeing Euphra in the drawingroom first： he
went to his own study； where he remained till the hour had nearly
arrived。 He tried to write some verses。 But he found that；
although the lovely form of its own Naiad lay on the brink of the
Well of Song； its waters would not flow： during the sirocco of
passion； its springs withdraw into the cool caves of the Life
beneath。 At length he rose； too much preoccupied to mind his want
of success； and； going down the back stair； reached the library。
There he seated himself； and tried to read by the light of his
chamber…candle。 But it was scarcely even an attempt； for every
moment he was looking up to the door by which he expected her to
enter。
Suddenly an increase of light warned him that she was in the room。
How she had entered he could not tell。 One hand carried her
candle； the light of which fell on her pale face； with its halo of
blacknessher hair； which looked like a well of darkness； that
threatened to break from its bonds and overflood the room with a
second night； dark enough to blot out that which was now looking in；
treeful and deep； at the uncurtained windows。 The other hand was
busy trying to incarcerate a stray tress which had escaped from its
net； and made her olive shoulders look white beside it。
〃Let it alone；〃 said Hugh； 〃let it be beautiful。〃
But she gently repelled the hand he raised to hers； and； though she
was forced to put down her candle first； persisted in confining the
refractory tress； then seated herself at the table； and taking from
her pocket the manuscript which Hugh had been criticising in the
morning； unfolded it； and showed him all the passages he had
objected to； neatly corrected or altered。 It was wonderfully done
for the time she had had。 He went over it all with her again；
seated close to her； their faces almost meeting as they followed the
lines。 They had just finished it； and were about to commence
reading from the original； when Hugh； who missed a sheet of Euphra's
translation； stooped under the table to look for it。 A few moments
were spent in the search； before he discovered that Euphra's foot
was upon it。 He begged her to move a little； but received no reply
either by word or act。 Looking up in some alarm； he saw that she
was either asleep or in a faint。 By an impulse inexplicable to
himself at the time； he went at once to the windows； and drew down
the green blinds。 When he turned towards her again； she was
reviving or awaking； he could not tell which。
〃How stupid of me to go to sleep！〃 she said。 〃Let us go on with our
reading。〃
They had read for about half an hour； when three taps upon one of
the windows； slight； but peculiar； and as if given with the point of
a finger； suddenly startled them。 Hugh turned at once towards the
windows； but； of course； he could see nothing； having just lowered
the blinds。 He turned again towards Euphra。 She had a strange wild
look； her lips were slightly parted； and her nostrils wide； her face
was rigid； and glimmering pale as death from the cloud of her black
hair。
〃What was it？〃 said Hugh； affected by her fear with the horror of
the unknown。 But she made no answer； and continued staring towards
one of the windows。 He rose and was about to advance to it； when
she caught him by the hand with a grasp of which hers would have
been incapable except under the influence of terror。 At that moment
a clock in the room began to strike。 It was a slow clock； and went
on deliberately； striking one。。。two。。。three。。。till it had struck
twelve。 Every stroke was a blow from the hammer of fear； and his
heart was the bell。 He could not breathe for dread so long as the
awful clock was striking。 When it had ended； they looked at each
other again； and Hugh breathed once。
〃Euphra！〃 he sighed。
But she made no answer； she turned her eyes again to one of the
windows。 They were both standing。 He sought to draw her to him；
but she yielded no more than a marble statue。
〃I crossed the Ghost's Walk to…night；〃 said he； in a hard whisper；
scarcely knowing that he uttered it； till he heard his own words。
They seemed to fall upon his ear as if spoken by some one outside
the room。 She looked at him once more； and kept looking with a
fixed stare。 Gradually her face became less rigid； and her eyes
less wild。 She could move at last。
〃Come； come；〃 she said； in a hurried whisper。 〃Let us gono； no；
not that way；〃as Hugh would have led her towards the private
stair〃let us go the front way； by the oak staircase。〃
They went up together。 When they reached the door of her room； she
said； 〃Good night；〃 without even looking at him； and passed in。
Hugh went on； in a state of utter bewilderment； to his own
apartment； shut the door and locked ita thing he had never done
before； lighted both the candles on his table； and then walked up
and down the room； trying； like one aware that he is dreaming； to
come to his real self。
〃Pshaw！〃 he said at last。 〃It was only a little bird； or a large
moth。 How odd it is that darkness can make a fool of one！ I am
ashamed of myself。 I wish I had gone out at the window； if only to
show Euphra I was not afraid； though of course there was nothing to
be seen。〃
As he said this in his mind；he could not have spoken it aloud； for
fear