The man took the crow-bar, and with some difficulty succeeded in
introducing it between the door and the side of the wall--still it
required great strength to move it, but it did move, with a harsh,
crackling sound. "Push it!" cried he who was using the bar, "push the door at the same
time." The younger man did so. For a few moments the massive door resisted. Then, suddenly, something gave way with a loud snap--it was a part of
the lock,--and the door at once swung wide open. How true it is that we measure time by the events which happen within a
given space of it, rather than by its actual duration. To those who were engaged in forcing open the door of the antique
chamber, where slept the young girl whom they named Flora, each moment
was swelled into an hour of agony; but, in reality, from the first
moment of the alarm to that when the loud cracking noise heralded the
destruction of the fastenings of the door, there had elapsed but very
few minutes indeed. "It opens--it opens," cried the young man. "Another moment," said the stranger, as he still plied the
crowbar--"another moment, and we shall have free ingress to the chamber. Be patient." This stranger's name was Marchdale; and even as he spoke, he succeeded
in throwing the massive door wide open, and clearing the passage to the
chamber. To rush in with a light in his hand was the work of a moment to the
young man named Henry; but the very rapid progress he made into the
apartment prevented him from observing accurately what it contained, for
the wind that came in from the open window caught the flame of the
candle, and although it did not actually extinguish it, it blew it so
much on one side, that it was comparatively useless as a light. "Flora--Flora!" he cried. Then with a sudden bound something dashed from off the bed. The
concussion against him was so sudden and so utterly unexpected, as well
as so tremendously violent, that he was thrown down, and, in his fall,
the light was fairly extinguished. All was darkness, save a dull, reddish kind of light that now and then,
from the nearly consumed mill in the immediate vicinity, came into the
room. But by that light, dim, uncertain, and flickering as it was, some
one was seen to make for the window. Henry, although nearly stunned by his fall, saw a figure, gigantic in
height, which nearly reached from the floor to the ceiling. The other
young man, George, saw it, and Mr. Marchdale likewise saw it, as did the
lady who had spoken to the two young men in the corridor when first the
screams of the young girl awakened alarm in the breasts of all the
inhabitants of that house. The figure was about to pass out at the window which led to a kind of
balcony, from whence there was an easy descent to a garden. Before it passed out they each and all caught a glance of the side-face,
and they saw that the lower part of it and the lips were dabbled in
blood. They saw, too, one of those fearful-looking, shining, metallic
eyes which presented so terrible an appearance of unearthly ferocity. No wonder that for a moment a panic seized them all, which paralysed any
exertions they might otherwise have made to detain that hideous form. But Mr. Marchdale was a man of mature years; he had seen much of life,
both in this and in foreign lands; and he, although astonished to the
extent of being frightened, was much more likely to recover sooner than
his younger companions, which, indeed, he did, and acted promptly
enough. "Don't rise, Henry," he cried. "Lie still." Almost at the moment he uttered these words, he fired at the figure,
which then occupied the window, as if it were a gigantic figure set in a
frame. The report was tremendous in that chamber, for the pistol was no toy
weapon, but one made for actual service, and of sufficient length and
bore of barrel to carry destruction along with the bullets that came
from it. "If that has missed its aim," said Mr. Marchdale, "I'll never pull a
trigger again." As he spoke he dashed forward, and made a clutch at the figure he felt
convinced he had shot. The tall form turned upon him, and when he got a full view of the face,
which he did at that moment, from the opportune circumstance of the lady
returning at the instant with a light she had been to her own chamber to
procure, even he, Marchdale, with all his courage, and that was great,
and all his nervous energy, recoiled a step or two, and uttered the
exclamation of, "Great God!" That face was one never to be forgotten. It was hideously flushed with
colour--the colour of fresh blood; the eyes had a savage and remarkable
lustre; whereas, before, they had looked like polished tin--they now
wore a ten times brighter aspect, and flashes of light seemed to dart
from them. The mouth was open, as if, from the natural formation of the
countenance, the lips receded much from the large canine looking teeth. A strange howling noise came from the throat of this monstrous figure,
and it seemed upon the point of rushing upon Mr. Marchdale. Suddenly,
then, as if some impulse had seized upon it, it uttered a wild and
terrible shrieking kind of laugh; and then turning, dashed through the
window, and in one instant disappeared from before the eyes of those who
felt nearly annihilated by its fearful presence. "God help us!" ejaculated Henry. Mr. Marchdale drew a long breath, and then, giving a stamp on the floor,
as if to recover himself from the state of agitation into which even he
was thrown, he cried,--

"Be it what or who it may, I'll follow it"

"No--no--do not," cried the lady. "I must, I will. Let who will come with me--I follow that dreadful
form." As he spoke, he took the road it took, and dashed through the window
into the balcony. "And we, too, George," exclaimed Henry; "we will follow Mr. Marchdale. This dreadful affair concerns us more nearly than it does him." The lady who was the mother of these young men, and of the beautiful
girl who had been so awfully visited, screamed aloud, and implored of
them to stay. But the voice of Mr. Marchdale was heard exclaiming
aloud,--

"I see it--I see it; it makes for the wall." They hesitated no longer, but at once rushed into the balcony, and from
thence dropped into the garden. The mother approached the bed-side of the insensible, perhaps the
murdered girl; she saw her, to all appearance, weltering in blood, and,
overcome by her emotions, she fainted on the floor of the room. When the two young men reached the garden, they found it much lighter
than might have been fairly expected; for not only was the morning
rapidly approaching, but the mill was still burning, and those mingled
lights made almost every object plainly visible, except when deep
shadows were thrown from some gigantic trees that had stood for
centuries in that sweetly wooded spot. They heard the voice of Mr.
Marchdale, as he cried,--

"There--there--towards the wall. There--there--God! how it bounds
along."