leaning on a bureau near the window, steadfastly regarding him, saw
his old college friend! The appearance being solemnly addressed,
replied, in a kind of whisper, but very audibly, "Do not come near
me. I am dead. I am here to redeem my promise. I come from
another world, but may not disclose its secrets!" Then, the whole
form becoming paler, melted, as it were, into the moonlight, and
faded away.

Or, there was the daughter of the first occupier of the picturesque
Elizabethan house, so famous in our neighbourhood. You have heard
about her? No! Why, SHE went out one summer evening at twilight,
when she was a beautiful girl, just seventeen years of age, to
gather flowers in the garden; and presently came running, terrified,
into the hall to her father, saying, "Oh, dear father, I have met
myself!" He took her in his arms, and told her it was fancy, but
she said, "Oh no! I met myself in the broad walk, and I was pale
and gathering withered flowers, and I turned my head, and held them
up!" And, that night, she died; and a picture of her story was
begun, though never finished, and they say it is somewhere in the
house to this day, with its face to the wall.

Or, the uncle of my brother's wife was riding home on horseback, one
mellow evening at sunset, when, in a green lane close to his own
house, he saw a man standing before him, in the very centre of a
narrow way. "Why does that man in the cloak stand there!" he
thought. "Does he want me to ride over him?" But the figure never
moved. He felt a strange sensation at seeing it so still, but
slackened his trot and rode forward. When he was so close to it, as
almost to touch it with his stirrup, his horse shied, and the figure
glided up the bank, in a curious, unearthly manner--backward, and