H. De Vere Stacpoole

“ Geraldine was safe then; she knew nothing of that furious ride through the night, heard none of the galloping of those horses.
As I turned from taking a last look at the sleeping face I felt awed, not exactly awed, but frightened. Do you know that perfect and absolute purity frightens one to look at, as if it were a ghost? You may laugh, but it does, though it is more rarely seen than any ghost. ”

“ I came along the passage like a ghost—only I had a candle in my hand, and you never hear of ghosts carrying candles. I reached the top of the great hall stairs, and I saw the hall below, with the men in armour standing round the oak-panelled walls and the grey dawn glimmering down at them through the stained glass windows. ”

“ Then my horse faltered and stumbled and fell. And I woke. All around me was in black darkness. I felt the pillows to make sure I was in bed, then I felt for a match-box on the little table by the bed-side, and I struck a light. The clock on the mantelpiece pointed to quarter past five. I rose and lit a candle, and put on a wrapper. I felt frightened. I wanted to go to Geraldine to see if she were all right. You never love a person so much as just when you wake from a dream of them, at least I quote from my own experience. ”