And once more on the face of the dying man shone out
the rapturous smile, which gave the poor old woman
such cruel pain.
’One instant ... and the fairy
tale is over,
And once again the actual fills the soul
...’—A. FET.
For a long time I could not get to sleep, and kept
turning from side to side. ‘Confound this
foolishness about table-turning!’ I thought.
’It simply upsets one’s nerves.’...
Drowsiness began to overtake me at last....
Suddenly it seemed to me as though there were the
faint and plaintive sound of a harp-string in the
room.
I raised my head. The moon was low in the sky,
and looked me straight in the face. White as
chalk lay its light upon the floor.... The strange
sound was distinctly repeated.
I leaned on my elbow. A faint feeling of awe
plucked at my heart. A minute passed, another....
Somewhere, far away, a cock crowed; another answered
still more remote.
I let my head sink back on the pillow. ’See
what one can work oneself up to,’ I thought
again,... ‘there’s a singing in my ears.’
After a little while I fell asleep—or I
thought I fell asleep. I had an extraordinary
dream. I fancied I was lying in my room, in my
bed—and was not asleep, could not even
close my eyes. And again I heard the sound....
I turned over.... The moonlight on the floor began
softly to lift, to rise up, to round off slightly
above.... Before me; impalpable as mist, a white
woman was standing motionless.
‘Who are you?’ I asked with an effort.
A voice made answer, like the rustle of leaves:
’It is I ... I ... I ... I have
come for you.’
‘For me? But who are you?’
’Come by night to the edge of the wood where
there stands an old oak-tree. I will be there.’
I tried to look closely into the face of the mysterious
woman—and suddenly I gave an involuntary
shudder: there was a chilly breath upon me.
And then I was not lying down, but sitting up in my
bed; and where, as I fancied, the phantom had stood,
the moonlight lay in a long streak of white upon the
floor.
The day passed somehow. I tried, I remember,
to read, to work ... everything was a failure.
The night came. My heart was throbbing within
me, as though it expected something. I lay down,
and turned with my face to the wall.
‘Why did you not come?’ sounded a distinct
whisper in the room.
I looked round quickly.
Again she ... again the mysterious phantom. Motionless
eyes in a motionless face, and a gaze full of sadness.
‘Come!’ I heard the whisper again.
‘I will come,’ I replied with instinctive
horror. The phantom bent slowly forward, and
undulating faintly like smoke, melted away altogether.
And again the moon shone white and untroubled on the
smooth floor.
