“And gazing and wondering, the stories attributed to the place seemed not wholly without cause.  There are certain atmospheres, I have always held, which, as it were, infect one; the very air has caught some contagion of evil which can not be got rid of.  There is a baneful influence about some places which makes itself felt upon all sensitive beings who approach.  I have felt it on actual battle-fields, as well as at other places that I have held to be the scenes of unrecorded, immemorial slaughters; and as I gazed round it seemed to gather and fall on me here.  The very stillness was appalling, for there was now a good deal of wind blowing from the sea, as I could tell from the rustling and cracking of the fir boughs all about, and the sound of the sea on the sand; but here there was an oppressive heaviness, as if the place was still brooding over the ancient horror it had seen.  And this was succeeded in my mind by a strange, overpowering, fascinating wonder and speculation as to what dismal deeds of darkness could have been done in the place; with whose blood, indeed, whether of innocent sheep and goats, or pleading men and frightened children, that grim uncouth altar had run and smoked; whether, in truth, as the ancient tales say, every one of those gray pillars all about had been set up, and still was based upon, the mouldering crushed remains of men.  The sickening contagion of the sin of the place grew upon me every moment.

“To rid myself of it I applied myself to climb one of the trees to get a bird’s-eye view of the island.  This I effected without much difficulty, and found that it was of the shape, as I have said, of an irregular five-pointed star.  From extremity to extremity, it must be, I believe, about five miles.

“But now follows the part of my story that I do not profess to explain.  I marked in my mind the nearest path to the sea, which was to the north-east—­the path I actually pursued—­and descended; and then I became aware that the feeling I had experienced before was not purely physical—­that there was a taint of a real kind in the air, which strangely affected the emotional atmosphere.  I felt helpless, bewildered, sickened.  I descended, however, from the platform, and walked straight, in what I had determined to be the right direction, when, just as I was about to scale the wall, heartily glad to be out of the place, I was—­not exactly called, for there was no sound—­but most unmistakably ordered to look round.  Am I clear?  The sensation produced mentally and emotionally was precisely like the receiving an imperative order that one has neither power nor inclination to resist—­so strong and sudden that I kept thinking that my name had been called.  In reflecting, however, I am certain that it was not.