The clock occupying the
center of the mantelpiece alone gave evidence of life. It had been
wound for the wedding and had not yet run down. Its tick-tick came
faint enough, however, through the darkness, as if it too had lost
heart and would soon lapse into the deadly quiet of its ghostly
surroundings.
"It's it's funeral-like," chattered Hibbard.
He was right; I felt as if I were shutting the lid of a coffin when
I finally closed the door.
Our next steps took us into the rear where we found little to detain
us, and then, with a certain dread fully justified by the event, we
made for the door defined by the two Corinthian columns.
It was ajar like the rest, and, call me coward or call me fool - I
have called Hibbard both, you will remember - I found that it cost me
an effort to lay my hand on its mahogany panels. Danger, if danger
there was, lurked here; and while I had never known myself to quail
before any ordinary antagonist, I, like others of my kind, have no
especial fondness for unseen and mysterious perils.
Hibbard, who up to this point had followed me almost too closely,
now accorded me all the room that was necessary. It was with a sense
of entering alone upon the scene that I finally thrust wide the door
and crossed the threshold of this redoubtable room where, but two
short weeks before, a fresh victim had been added to the list of
those who had by some unheard-of, unimaginable means found their
death within its recesses.
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