winter nights there, alone and watching. But he would beg to remark that he had
not finished.
I asked his pardon, and he slowly added these words, touching my arm: 'Within
six hours after the Appearance, the memorable accident on this Line happened,
and within ten hours the dead and wounded were brought along through the
tunnel over the spot where the figure had stood.'
A disagreeable shudder crept over me, but I did my best against it. It was not to
be denied, I rejoined, that this was a remarkable coincidence, calculated deeply
to impress his mind. But it was unquestionable that remarkable coincidences did
continually occur, and they must be taken into account in dealing with such a
subject. Though to be sure I must admit, I added (for I thought I saw that he was
going to bring the objection to bear upon me), men of common sense did not
allow much for coincidences in making the ordinary calculations of life.
He again begged to remark that he had not finished.
I again begged his pardon for being betrayed into interruptions.
'This,' he said, again laying his hand upon my arm, and glancing over his
shoulder with hollow eyes, 'was just a year ago. Six or seven months passed, and
I had recovered from the surprise and shock, when one morning, as the day was
breaking, I, standing at that door, looked towards the red light, and saw the
spectre again.' He stopped, with a fixed look at me.
'Did it cry out?'
'No. It was silent.'
'Did it wave its arm?'
'No. It leaned against the shaft of the light, with both hands before the face. Like
this.'
Once more, I followed his action with my eyes. It was an action of mourning. I
have seen such an attitude in stone figures on tombs.
'Did you go up to it?'
'I came in and sat down, partly to collect my thoughts, partly because it had
turned me faint. When I went to the door again, daylight was above me, and the
ghost was gone.'
'But nothing followed? Nothing came of this?'
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