"I must go, I must go," went on the dreadful, familiar voice, in a cry
of despair. "Oh, why were you so long opening the door? I wanted to
talk to you before you married Annie; and now I shall never see you
again--never! never! _never!_ I have lost you for ever! ever! _ever!_"
As the last wailing notes died away the wind came down with a rush and
a whirl and the sweep as of a thousand wings, and threw me back into the
house, bringing the door to with a crash after me.
I staggered into the kitchen, the basket in my hand, and set it on the
table. Just then some embers of the fire fell in, and a faint little
flame rose and glimmered on the bright dishes on the dresser, even
revealing a tin candlestick, with a box of matches by it. I was
well-nigh mad with the darkness and fear, and, seizing the matches,
I struck one, and held it to the candle. Presently it caught, and I
glanced round the room. It was just as usual, just as the servants
had left it, and above the mantelpiece the eight-day clock ticked away
solemnly. While I looked at it it struck two, and in a dim fashion I was
thankful for its friendly sound.
Then I looked at the basket. It was of very fine white plaited work with
black bands running up it, and a chequered black-and-white handle.
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