ter; and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently.
'I am coming!' I cried. 'Wait for me! Oh, I will come!' I flew to the door and looked into the passage: it was dark. I ran out into the garden: it was void.
'Where are you?' I exclaimed.
The hills beyond Marsh Glen sent the answer faintly back- 'Where are you?' I listened. The wind sighed low in the firs: all was moorland loneliness and midnight hush.
'Down superstition!' I commented, as that spectre rose up black by the black yew at the gate. 'This is not thy deception, nor thy witchcraft: it is the work of nature. She was roused, and did- no miracle- but her best.'
I broke from St. John, who had followed, and would have detained me. It was my time to assume ascendency. My powers were in play and in force. I told him to forbear question or remark; I desired him to leave me: I must and would be alone. He obeyed at once. Where there is energy to command well enough, obedience never fails. I mounted to my chamber; locked myself in; fell on my knees; and prayed in my way- a different way to St. John's, but effective in its own fashion. I seemed to penetrate very near a Mighty Spirit; and my soul rushed out in gratitude at His feet. I rose from the thanksgiving- took a resolve- and lay down, unscared, enlightened- eager but for the daylight.