I would
rather stand a hundred of these mysterious visitations than consult such
a man as to their possible cause.
"A knock at the door interrupted my reflections, and I gave a start that
sent the candle grease flying.
"'Let me in,' came in Smith's voice.
"I unlocked the door. He came in fully dressed. His face wore a curious
pallor. It seemed to me to be under the skin and to shine through and
almost make it luminous. His eyes were exceedingly bright.
"I was wondering what in the world to say to him, or how he would
explain his visit at such an hour, when he closed the door behind him
and came close up to me--uncomfortably close.
"'You should have called me at once,' he said in his whispering voice,
fixing his great eyes on my face.
"I stammered something about an awful dream, but he ignored my remark
utterly, and I caught his eye wandering next--if any movement of those
optics can be described as 'wandering'--to the book-shelf. I watched
him, unable to move my gaze from his person. The man fascinated me
horribly for some reason. Why, in the devil's name, was he up and
dressed at three in the morning? How did he know anything had happened
unusual in my room? Then his whisper began again.
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