the dreams of such a brain put into action and invested with a semi-substance.  That this brain is of immense power, that it can set matter into movement, that it is malignant and destructive, I believe; some material force must have killed my dog; the same force might, for aught I know, have sufficed to kill myself, had I been as subjugated by terror as the dog—­had my intellect or my spirit given me no countervailing resistance in my will.”

“It killed your dog! that is fearful! indeed it is strange that no animal can be induced to stay in that house; not even a cat.  Rats and mice are never found in it.”

“The instincts of the brute creation detect influences deadly to their existence.  Man’s reason has a sense less subtle, because it has a resisting power more supreme.  But enough; do you comprehend my theory?”

“Yes, though imperfectly—­and I accept any crotchet (pardon the word), however odd, rather than embrace at once the notion of ghosts and hob-goblins we imbibed in our nurseries.  Still, to my unfortunate house the evil is the same.  What on earth can I do with the house?”

“I will tell you what I would do.  I am convinced from my own internal feelings that the small unfurnished room at right angles to the door of the bedroom which I occupied, forms a starting-point or receptacle for the influences which haunt the house; and I strongly advise you to have the walls opened, the floor removed—­nay, the whole room pulled down.  I observe that it is detached from the body of the house, built over the small back-yard, and could be removed without injury to the rest of the building.”

“And you think, if I did that——­”

“You would cut off the telegraph wires.  Try it.  I am so persuaded that I am right, that I will pay half the expense if you will allow me to direct the operations.”

“Nay, I am well able to afford the cost; for the rest, allow me to write to you.”

About ten days afterwards I received a letter from Mr. J——­, telling me that he had visited the house since I had seen him; that he had found the two letters I had described replaced in the drawer from which I had taken them; that he had read them with misgivings like my own; that he had instituted a cautious inquiry about the woman to whom I rightly conjectured they had been written.  It seemed that thirty-six years ago (a year before the date of the letters) she had married, against the wish of her relations, an American of very suspicious character, in fact, he was generally believed to have been a pirate.  She herself was the daughter of very respectable tradespeople, and had served in the capacity of nursery governess before her marriage.  She had a brother, a widower, who was considered wealthy, and who had one child of about six years old.  A month after the marriage, the body of this brother was found in the Thames, near London Bridge; there seemed some marks of violence about his throat, but they were not deemed sufficient to warrant the inquest in any other verdict than that of “found drowned.”