never set eyes upon it. Because we have never dared. Tell us, is it

truly the old earl who--"

"No," said I, "it is not."

"I told you so," said the old lady, with the glass in her hand. "It is

his poor young countess who was frightened--"

It is not," I said. "There is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of

countess in that room; there is no ghost there at all, but worse, far

worse, something impalpable--"

Well?" they said.

The worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal men," said I; "and

that is, in all its nakedness--'Fear!' Fear that will not have light

nor sound, that will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and

overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor, it fought against me in

the room--"

I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence. My hand went up to

my bandages. "The candles went out one after another, and I fled--"

Then the man with the shade lifted his face sideways to see me and

spoke.

The Red Room