A beautiful young lady had died
instantaneously in one of the compartments, and was brought in here,
and laid down on this floor between us."
Involuntarily I pushed my chair back, as I looked from the boards at
which he pointed, to himself.
"True, sir. True. Precisely as it happened, so I tell it you."
I could think of nothing to say, to any purpose, and my mouth was very
dry. The wind and the wires took up the story with a long lamenting
wail.
He resumed. "Now, sir, mark this, and judge how my mind is troubled.
The spectre came back, a week ago. Ever since, it has been there, now
and again, by fits and starts."
"At the light?"
"At the Danger-light."
"What does it seem to do?"
He repeated, if possible with increased passion and vehemence, that
former gesticulation of "For God's sake clear the way!"
Then he went on. "I have no peace or rest for it. It calls to me, for
many minutes together, in an agonized manner, 'Below there! Look out!
Look out!' It stands waving to me. It rings my little bell--"
I caught at that.
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