The walls were bare, and the floor and great staircase ahead of him
carpetless. As the match flickered out he caught a glimpse of a pair of
feet moving up the stairs; that was all--only feet.

"I'll catch up with the calves on the landing, maybe," said he; and,
striking another match, he followed them up.

The feet turned aside on the landing and led him into a room on the
right. He paused on the threshold, drew a candle from his pocket, lit
it, and stared about him. The room was of great size, bare and dusty,
with crimson hangings, gilt panels, and one huge gilt chandelier, from
which and from the ceiling and cornice long cobwebs trailed down like
creeping plants. Beneath the chandelier a dark smear ran along the
boards. The feet crossed it towards the fireplace; and as they did so,
John saw them stained with blood. They reached the fire-place and
vanished.

Scarcely had this happened, before the end of the room opposite the
window began to glow with an unearthly light. John, whose poverty had
taught him to be economical, promptly blew out his candle. A moment
later two men entered, bearing a coffin between them. They rested it
upon the floor and, seating themselves upon it, began to cast dice.
"Your soul!" "My soul!" they kept saying in hollow tones, according as
they won or lost. At length one of them--a tall man in a powdered wig,
with a face extraordinarily pale--flung a hand to his brow, rose and
staggered from the room. The other sat waiting and twirling his black
moustache, with an evil smile. John, who by this time had found a seat
in a far corner, thought him the most poisonous-looking villain he had
ever seen; but as the minutes passed and nothing happened, he turned his
back to the light and pulled out a penny-dreadful. His literary taste