"I won't die!" I cried. "I simply won't!"
And yet I knew at the time that death had taken possession of me, was even then gnawing away at the centre of my life.
I entered the little copse and drew near to the house. I had gone, perhaps, twenty yards, when I stopped. Peering at me through the leaves of the bushes, which grew thick on the side of the cliff, was a pair of gleaming eyes. They seemed to me to be the eyes of a madman, a maniac. Perhaps my imagination was excited, and my mind unbalanced, but I thought I saw revenge, hatred, murder. The eyes were large and staring. I could see no face, no form. I felt no fear, only a sense of wonder and a desire to know. I took a step in the direction of those wild, maniacal orbs, and I heard a cry--hoarse, agonized. I took another step forward and looked again, and saw nothing, neither did I hear another sound. Feverishly I made my way towards the spot, but there was nothing there. No footmarks could I discover, no signs of any one having been there. I am perfectly certain I saw what I have described, as sure as that I am sitting in my little room at this moment, but although I searched everywhere I could discover nothing.
I returned to my house and began to dress for dinner; but all the while I was haunted by those wild, staring eyes.
"Simpson," I said, after dinner, "do you believe in ghosts?"
"Well, sir, I don't know that I could put them into words. Will you have your coffee now, sir?"
"Yes, please, Simpson; and will you pass my cigar-box?"
"You are somewhat of a philosopher, aren't you, Simpson?"
"In my own way, sir. If I hadn't been I should have been dead before now."
"Well, sir, it was during the two years I was married. It was my philosophy that saved me."
"Well, you see, sir, I hadn't been married more than a month before I discovered that my wife had a remarkable command of language. While we were courting, she pretended to be shy, and had very little to say; but when we got married she developed the power of speech awful, sir--just awful. At first I answered her back, and every time I spoke I seemed, as it were, to open up the fountains of the great deep, until I thought I was going mad. Then I got to thinking about it, sir, and after careful study of my wife's character I came to the conclusion that the only way I could meet her was by silence. I didn't smoke at that time, sir, she having said as how she hated smoking; but I bought a pipe and tobacco, and every time she started talking I just loaded up my pipe and commenced smoking. I didn't say a word, sir, but let her go on and on."