I may use the term—­which had been experienced in my chamber.  And though I entered it now in the clear day, with the sun peering through the filmy window I still felt, as I stood on its floor, the creep of the horror which I had first there experienced the night before, and which had been so aggravated by what had passed in my own chamber.  I could not, indeed, bear to stay more than half a minute within those walls.  I descended the stairs, and again I heard the footfall before me; and when I opened the street door, I thought I could distinguish a very low laugh.  I gained my own home, expecting to find my runaway servant there.  But he had not presented himself; nor did I hear more of him for three days, when I received a letter from him, dated from Liverpool to this effect:—­

“HONORED SIR,—­I humbly entreat your pardon, though I can scarcely hope that you will think I deserve it, unless—­which Heaven forbid—­you saw what I did.  I feel that it will be years before I can recover myself:  and as to being fit for service, it is out of the question.  I am therefore going to my brother-in-law at Melbourne.  The ship sails to-morrow.  Perhaps the long voyage may set me up.  I do nothing now but start and tremble, and fancy IT is behind me.  I humbly beg you, honored sir, to order my clothes, and whatever wages are due to me, to be sent to my mother’s, at Walworth.—­John knows her address.”

The letter ended with additional apologies, somewhat incoherent, and explanatory details as to effects that had been under the writer’s charge.

This flight may perhaps warrant a suspicion that the man wished to go to Australia, and had been somehow or other fraudulently mixed up with the events of the night.  I say nothing in refutation of that conjecture; rather, I suggest it as one that would seem to many persons the most probable solution of improbable occurrences.  My belief in my own theory remained unshaken.  I returned in the evening to the house, to bring away in a hack cab the things I had left there, with my poor dog’s body.  In this task I was not disturbed, nor did any incident worth note befall me, except that still, on ascending and descending the stairs, I heard the same footfall in advance.  On leaving the house, I went to Mr. J.’s.  He was at home.  I returned him the keys, told him that my curiosity was sufficiently gratified, and was about to relate quickly what had passed, when he stopped me, and said, though with much politeness, that he had no longer any interest in a mystery which none had ever solved.

I determined at least to tell him of the two letters I had read, as well as of the extraordinary manner in which they had disappeared, and I then inquired if he thought they had been addressed to the woman who had died in the house, and if there were anything in her early history which could possibly confirm the dark suspicions to which the letters gave rise.  Mr. J——­ seemed startled, and, after