both vanished. There then came the same three loud, measured
knocks I had heard at the bed head before this extraordinary drama
had commenced.

As those sounds slowly ceased, I felt the whole room vibrate
sensibly; and at the far end there rose, as from the floor, sparks
or globules like bubbles of light, many colored,--green, yellow,
fire-red, azure. Up and down, to and fro, hither, thither as tiny
Will-o'-the-Wisps, the sparks moved, slow or swift, each at its own
caprice. A chair (as in the drawing-room below) was now advanced
from the wall without apparent agency, and placed at the opposite
side of the table. Suddenly, as forth from the chair, there grew a
shape,--a woman's shape. It was distinct as a shape of life,--
ghastly as a shape of death. The face was that of youth, with a
strange, mournful beauty; the throat and shoulders were bare, the
rest of the form in a loose robe of cloudy white. It began
sleeking its long, yellow hair, which fell over its shoulders; its
eyes were not turned toward me, but to the door; it seemed
listening, watching, waiting. The shadow of the shade in the
background grew darker; and again I thought I beheld the eyes
gleaming out from the summit of the shadow,--eyes fixed upon that
shape.

As if from the door, though it did not open, there grew out another
shape, equally distinct, equally ghastly,--a man's shape, a young
man's. It was in the dress of the last century, or rather in a
likeness of such dress (for both the male shape and the female,
though defined, were evidently unsubstantial, impalpable,--
simulacra, phantasms); and there was something incongruous,
grotesque, yet fearful, in the contrast between the elaborate