On one occasion a fit of this kind continued for an unusual time; the
ordinary term of their duration--about two days--had been long past,
and the old servant who generally waited upon Sir Robert after these
visitations, having in vain listened for the well-known tinkle of his
master's hand-bell, began to feel extremely anxious; he feared that his
master might have died from sheer exhaustion, or perhaps put an end to
his own existence during his miserable depression. These fears at length
became so strong, that having in vain urged some of his brother servants
to accompany him, he determined to go up alone, and himself see whether
any accident had befallen Sir Robert. He traversed the several passages which conducted from the new to the
more ancient parts of the mansion, and having arrived in the old hall
of the castle, the utter silence of the hour--for it was very late in
the night--the idea of the nature of the enterprise in which he was
engaging himself, a sensation of remoteness from anything like human
companionship, but, more than all, the vivid but undefined anticipation
of something horrible, came upon him with such oppressive weight that
he hesitated as to whether he should proceed. Real uneasiness, however,
respecting the fate of his master, for whom he felt that kind of
attachment which the force of habitual intercourse not unfrequently
engenders respecting objects not in themselves amiable, and also a
latent unwillingness to expose his weakness to the ridicule of his
fellow-servants, combined to overcome his reluctance; and he had just
placed his foot upon the first step of the staircase which conducted to
his master's chamber, when his attention was arrested by a low but
distinct knocking at the hall-door. Not, perhaps, very sorry at finding
thus an excuse even for deferring his intended expedition, he placed
the candle upon a stone block which lay in the hall and approached the
door, uncertain whether his ears had not deceived him. This doubt was
justified by the circumstance that the hall entrance had been for nearly
fifty years disused as a mode of ingress to the castle. The situation of
this gate also, which we have endeavoured to describe, opening upon a
narrow ledge of rock which overhangs a perilous cliff, rendered it at
all times, but particularly at night, a dangerous entrance. This
shelving platform of rock, which formed the only avenue to the door, was
divided, as I have already stated, by a broad chasm, the planks across
which had long disappeared, by decay or otherwise; so that it seemed at
least highly improbable that any man could have found his way across the
passage in safety to the door, more particularly on a night like this,
of singular darkness. The old man, therefore, listened attentively, to
ascertain whether the first application should be followed by another. He had not long to wait. The same low but singularly distinct knocking
was repeated; so low that it seemed as if the applicant had employed
no harder or heavier instrument than his hand, and yet, despite the
immense thickness of the door, with such strength that the sound was
distinctly audible. The knock was repeated a third time, without any increase of loudness;
and the old man, obeying an impulse for which to his dying hour he could
never account, proceeded to remove, one by one, the three great oaken
bars which secured the door. Time and damp had effectually corroded the
iron chambers of the lock, so that it afforded little resistance. With
some effort, as he believed, assisted from without, the old servant
succeeded in opening the door; and a low, square-built figure,
apparently that of a man wrapped in a large black cloak, entered
the hall. The servant could not see much of this visitor with any
distinctness; his dress appeared foreign, the skirt of his ample cloak
was thrown over one shoulder; he wore a large felt hat, with a very
heavy leaf, from under which escaped what appeared to be a mass of long
sooty-black hair; his feet were cased in heavy riding-boots. Such were
the few particulars which the servant had time and light to observe. The
stranger desired him to let his master know instantly that a friend had
come, by appointment, to settle some business with him. The servant
hesitated, but a slight motion on the part of his visitor, as if to
possess himself of the candle, determined him; so, taking it in his
hand, he ascended the castle stairs, leaving the guest in the hall. [Illustration: HE PAUSED, BUT THERE WAS NO SOUND.] On reaching the apartment which opened upon the oak-chamber he was
surprised to observe the door of that room partly open, and the room
itself lit up. He paused, but there was no sound; he looked in, and saw
Sir Robert, his head and the upper part of his body reclining on a
table, upon which two candles burned; his arms were stretched forward on
either side, and perfectly motionless; it appeared that, having been
sitting at the table, he had thus sunk forward, either dead or in a
swoon. There was no sound of breathing; all was silent, except the
sharp ticking of a watch, which lay beside the lamp. The servant coughed
twice or thrice, but with no effect; his fears now almost amounted to
certainty, and he was approaching the table on which his master partly
lay, to satisfy himself of his death, when Sir Robert slowly raised his
head, and, throwing himself back in his chair, fixed his eyes in a
ghastly and uncertain gaze upon his attendant. At length he said, slowly
and painfully, as if he dreaded the answer,--

"In God's name, what are you?" "Sir," said the servant, "a strange gentleman wants to see you below." At this intimation Sir Robert, starting to his feet and tossing his arms
wildly upwards, uttered a shriek of such appalling and despairing terror
that it was almost too fearful for human endurance; and long after the
sound had ceased it seemed to the terrified imagination of the old
servant to roll through the deserted passages in bursts of unnatural
laughter. After a few moments Sir Robert said,--

"Can't you send him away? Why does he come so soon? O Merciful Powers! let him leave me for an hour; a little time. I can't see him now; try to
get him away. You see I can't go down now; I have not strength. O God! O God! let him come back in an hour; it is not long to wait. He cannot
lose anything by it; nothing, nothing, nothing. Tell him that! Say
anything to him." The servant went down. In his own words, he did not feel the stairs
under him till he got to the hall. The figure stood exactly as he had
left it. He delivered his master's message as coherently as he could. The stranger replied in a careless tone:

"If Sir Robert will not come down to me; I must go up to him." The man returned, and to his surprise he found his master much more
composed in manner.