He was beginning to speak with a great deal more effort and reluctance, and sighed often, and seemed at times nearly overcome.  But at this time his manner was not agitated.  It was more like that of a sinking patient, who has given himself up.

“Yes, but I will first tell you about Kenlis, my parish.

“It was with me when I left this place for Dawlbridge.  It was my silent travelling companion, and it remained with me at the vicarage.  When I entered on the discharge of my duties, another change took place.  The thing exhibited an atrocious determination to thwart me.  It was with me in the church—­in the reading-desk—­in the pulpit—­within the communion rails.  At last, it reached this extremity, that while I was reading to the congregation, it would spring upon the book and squat there, so that I was unable to see the page.  This happened more than once.

“I left Dawlbridge for a time.  I placed myself in Dr. Harley’s hands.  I did everything he told me.  He gave my case a great deal of thought.  It interested him, I think.  He seemed successful.  For nearly three months I was perfectly free from a return.  I began to think I was safe.  With his full assent I returned to Dawlbridge.

“I travelled in a chaise.  I was in good spirits.  I was more—­I was happy and grateful.  I was returning, as I thought, delivered from a dreadful hallucination, to the scene of duties which I longed to enter upon.  It was a beautiful sunny evening, everything looked serene and cheerful, and I was delighted.  I remember looking out of the window to see the spire of my church at Kenlis among the trees, at the point where one has the earliest view of it.  It is exactly where the little stream that bounds the parish passes under the road by a culvert, and where it emerges at the road-side, a stone with an old inscription is placed.  As we passed this point, I drew my head in and sat down, and in the corner of the chaise was the monkey.

“For a moment I felt faint, and then quite wild with despair and horror.  I called to the driver, and got out, and sat down at the road-side, and prayed to God silently for mercy.  A despairing resignation supervened.  My companion was with me as I re-entered the vicarage.  The same persecution followed.  After a short struggle I submitted, and soon I left the place.

“I told you,” he said, “that the beast has before this become in certain ways aggressive.  I will explain a little.  It seemed to be actuated by intense and increasing fury, whenever I said my prayers, or even meditated prayer.  It amounted at last to a dreadful interruption.  You will ask, how could a silent immaterial phantom effect that?  It was thus, whenever I meditated praying; It was always before me, and nearer and nearer.