Miss Faithful was much engaged with her sewing just at that moment, and her sister’s unusual agitation escaped her notice.  Presently she said, “Sophonisba, isn’t there a bit of old black ribbon in that cupboard?  I want something of the kind, just to put round inside the neck of the dress, and then it will be done.”

“Yes—­I don’t know—­I think not,” said her sister, with a hesitation so unlike her usual promptness that Miss Faithful looked up surprised.  “I mean, I think there is,” said Miss Sophonisba.  “If you’d like to look, I’ll hold the candle for you.”

“Oh, you needn’t put down your work for that,” said Miss Faithful, but Miss Sophonisba dropped the ribbon she was plaiting and followed her sister with the candle.  She threw a half-frightened glance around the room as she entered, but the Vision did not reappear.  It was some time before the ribbon was found.  It had been pushed into the farther corner of the lower shelf, which was a wide and very thick pine board, slipping easily on the cleats by which it was upheld.  One end of the roll had caught behind this shelf, and Miss Faithful pulled the board a little forward.  As she did so a little roll of paper fell into the bottom of the cupboard.  Miss Sophonisba picked it up.  It consisted of several stained and discolored sheets of paper, seemingly torn from an account-book or journal, and covered all over with very fine and closely-written though perfectly legible characters, in a very precise hand.

“What is that?” said Miss Faithful.

“It’s nothing of ours, I’m pretty sure,” said her sister, looking at it.  “But come, if you’ve got what you want:  let’s go into the other room—­it’s cold here.”

As they crossed the threshold, Miss Faithful started.

“What’s the matter?” said her sister, though she well knew the reason.  She too had heard the same long sigh felt the same breath of chill air.

“Why, it seemed as if something breathed close to my ear,” said Miss Faithful, turning white; “and what’s more,” she continued, as they crossed the passage and entered the work-room, “I believe you heard it too, and that you’ve seen things in this house you haven’t told me of.”

“Well, child,” said Miss Sophonisba in a subdued tone, “there are some queer things in this world, that’s a fact—­queerer than ever I thought till lately.”

Miss Faithful did not press for an explanation:  she went quietly on with her dressmaking, and her sister, hurried though she was about her work, set herself to examine the papers.

I remember seeing the original manuscript when I was a little girl, but it was unfortunately destroyed by an accident.  My father, however, had copied part of it, and this copy is yet in my possession.  Miss Sophonisba could make very little of the record, which related to scientific matters of which she was quite ignorant; and as the most important words were indicated by signs and figures, she was completely puzzled.  The writer seemed to have been seeking in vain some particular result.  She looked on through the dates of the year 1785, and saw here and there familiar names, and at last commenced reading at these words: