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The dread word, GHOST, recalls me.Everybody said he looked like a haunted man. The extent of mypresent claim for everybody is, that they were so far right. Hedid.Who could have seen his hollow cheek; his sunken brilliant eye; hisblack-attired figure, indefinably grim, although well-knit andwell-proportioned; his grizzled hair hanging, like tangled sea-weed, about his face,--as if he had been, through his whole life, alonely mark for the chafing and beating of the great deep ofhumanity,--but might have said he looked like a haunted man?Who could have observed his manner, taciturn, thoughtful, gloomy,shadowed by habitual reserve, retiring always and jocund never,with a distraught air of reverting to a bygone place and time, orof listening to some old echoes in his mind, but might have said itwas the manner of a haunted man?Who could have heard his voice, slow-speaking, deep, and grave,with a natural fulness and melody in it which he seemed to sethimself against and stop, but might have said it was the voice of ahaunted man?Who that had seen him in his inner chamber, part library and partlaboratory,--for he was, as the world knew, far and wide, a learnedman in chemistry, and a teacher on whose lips and hands a crowd ofaspiring ears and eyes hung daily,--who that had seen him there,upon a winter night, alone, surrounded by his drugs and instrumentsand books; the shadow of his shaded lamp a monstrous beetle on thewall, motionless among a crowd of spectral shapes raised there bythe flickering of the fire upon the quaint objects around him; someof these phantoms (the reflection of glass vessels that heldliquids), trembling at heart like things that knew his power touncombine them, and to give back their component parts to fire andvapour;--who that had seen him then, his work done, and hepondering in his chair before the rusted grate and red flame,moving his thin mouth as if in speech, but silent as the dead,would not have said that the man seemed haunted and the chambertoo?Who might not, by a very easy flight of fancy, have believed thateverything about him took this haunted tone, and that he lived onhaunted ground?His dwelling was so solitary and vault-like,--an old, retired partof an ancient endowment for students, once a brave edifice, plantedin an open place, but now the obsolete whim of forgottenarchitects; smoke-age-and-weather-darkened, squeezed on every sideby the overgrowing of the great city, and choked, like an old well,with stones and bricks; its small quadrangles, lying down in verypits formed by the streets and buildings, which, in course of time,had been constructed above its heavy chimney stalks; its old trees,insulted by the neighbouring smoke, which deigned to droop so lowwhen it was very feeble and the weather very moody; its grass-plots, struggling with the mildewed earth to be grass, or to winany show of compromise; its silent pavements, unaccustomed to thetread of feet, and even to the observation of eyes, except when astray face looked down from the upper world, wondering what nook itwas; its sun-dial in a little bricked-up corner, where no sun hadstraggled for a hundred years, but where, in compensation for thesun's neglect, the snow would lie for weeks when it lay nowhereelse, and the black east wind would spin like a huge humming-top,when in all other places it was silent and still.
Would it suit you to see them in thedarkness of the night?""Most willingly.""I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, andmust climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept.""What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready tofollow you.""Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses.
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