“I tried to recall whether we were in a good or bad faubourg, but could not; and then I remembered that Paris was now divided into arrondissements, which had a much less ill-omened sound.  I went to the window to reconnoitre the locality, but, though the rain had ceased, darkness covered all so thickly that I could see nothing.  As I stood there the clock on the station struck, first the quarters, and then one, in a doleful, muffled tone.  It told me one thing I was glad to know—­namely, that we could not have wandered very far during our walk; but there was little comfort in that, after all, since the walk had terminated here.

“Stories that I had read of strange adventures and accidents to midnight guests now trooped into my head.  I thought of one in particular, in which the tester of the bed slowly descended to smother the sleeping inmate for purposes of robbery; whereupon I minutely examined mine, and found to my satisfaction that it was scarcely able to discharge the single duty of holding up the curtains, and looked most innocent of further intentions.  Finding myself again peering into corners I had already searched, and feeling this general unrest to be growing upon me, I began to think I must be nervous from over-exertion, and determined to get rid of my silly fancies in sleep.  Then, as if to take myself by surprise, I suddenly blew out the light, sprang under the covers and shut my eyes tight, afraid that something hateful might glare upon me in the dark.

“Just then Annie came to the communicating doorway, and with an effort to speak in her natural voice she said, ’Jane, I am going to sleep here.’  And as if this endeavor had consumed her last bit of resistance, she closed and locked the door quickly, ran to my bed and threw herself shivering beside me.

“‘What is the matter?’ I whispered, feeling my presentiment of evil confirmed.

“She put her lips to my ear and answered, ’I found a door in my room behind the bed-curtains, and it leads I don’t know where.”

“‘Did you open it?’

“’No indeed!  I would not open it for the world.  There might be something horrible in it;’ and she shuddered.

“‘You have left your light burning.’

“‘I don’t care.  I won’t go back:  no indeed, I could not.’  There was silence for a few minutes:  neither of us moved, when Nan again whispered, ‘Do you think this room quite safe?’

“‘I looked all around before I blew out the light.’

“‘Did you look behind your curtains?’

“‘No!’ I answered with an uncomfortable sensation.

“‘You are next the wall:  feel along it,’ in her most persuasive voice.

“The very idea made me creep.  Put my hand behind those curtains and touch—­what?  Even the cold wall would be sufficient to terrify me.  For reply I remarked suggestively, ‘If we had the light we could see.’

“‘Yes, that would be just the thing.  Go bring it—­do!’