composed of those small square panes that were in vogue a century ago.  As I went by it, I threw a hasty, appalled glance behind me, and distinctly saw, even through the blurred and dirty glass, the figures of two women, one pursuing the other over the thick white snow outside.  In the rapid view I had of them, I observed only that the first carried something in her hand that looked like a pistol, and her long black hair streamed behind her, showing darkly against the dead whiteness of the landscape.  The arms of her pursuer were outstretched, as though she were calling to her companion to stop; but perfect as was the silence of the night, and close as the figures seemed to be, I heard no sound of a voice.  Next I came to a second and smaller window which had been once boarded up, but with lapse of time the plank had loosened and partly fallen, and here I paused a moment to look out.  It still snowed slightly, but there was a clear moon, sufficient to throw a ghastly light upon the outside objects nearest to me.  With the sleeve of my coat I rubbed away the dust and cobwebs which overhung the glass, and peered out.  The two women were still hurrying onward, but the distance between them was considerably lessened.  And now for the first time a peculiarity about them struck me.  It was this, that the figures were not substantial; they flickered and waved precisely like flames, as they ran.  As I gazed at them the foremost turned her head to look at the woman behind her, and as she did so, stumbled, fell, and disappeared.  She seemed to have suddenly dropped down a precipice, so quickly and so completely she vanished.  The other figure stopped, wrung its hands wildly, and presently turned and fled in the direction of the park-gates, and was soon lost in the obscurity of the distance.  The sights I had just witnessed in the panelled chamber had not been of a nature to inspire courage in any one, and I must candidly confess that my knees actually shook and my teeth rattled as I left the window and darted up the solitary passage to the baize door at the top of it.  Would I had never unlocked that door!  Would that the key had been lost, or that I had never set foot in this abominable house!  Hastily I refastened the door, hung up the rusty key in its niche, and rushed into my own room, where I dropped into a chair with a deadly faintness creeping over me.  I looked at my hand, where the clot of blood had fallen.  It seemed to have burnt its way into my flesh, for it no longer appeared on the surface, but, where it had been was a round, purple mark, with an outer ring, like the scar of a burn.  That scar is on my hand now, and I suppose will be there all my life.  I looked at my watch, which I had left behind on the mantelpiece.  It was five minutes past twelve.  Should I go to bed?  I stirred the sinking fire into a blaze, and looked anxiously at my candle.  Neither fire nor candles, I perceived,