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303
The Book of Dreams and Ghosts
·
Andrew Lang
280
"The
young
fellow
went
to
sleep,
but
I
was
kept
awake
for
a
while,
wondering
and
observing.
After
half
an
hour
of
stillness
I
felt
a
thumb
press
on
my
head,
and
a
sense
of
cold.
I
kept
watching;
the
forefinger,
the
middle
finger,
and
the
rest
of
the
hand
were
next
laid
on,
the
little
finger
nearly
reaching
my
forehead.
The
hand
was
like
that
of
a
boy
of
ten,
to
guess
by
the
size,
and
so
cold
that
it
was
extremely
unpleasant.
Meantime
I
was
chuckling
over
my
luck
in
such
an
opportunity
of
witnessing
a
wonder,
and
I
listened
eagerly.
"The
hand
stole
with
the
ring
finger
foremost
over
my
face
and
down
my
nose,
it
was
slipping
into
my
mouth,
and
two
finger-tips
had
entered,
when
I
threw
it
off
with
my
right
hand,
thinking
it
was
uncanny,
and
not
relishing
it
inside
my
body.
Silence
followed
and
I
lay
awake,
distrusting
the
spectre
more
or
less.
In
about
half
an
hour
it
returned
and
repeated
its
former
conduct,
touching
me
very
lightly,
yet
very
chilly.
When
it
reached
my
mouth
I
again
drove
it
away.
Though
my
lips
were
tightly
closed,
I
felt
an
extreme
icy
cold
in
my
teeth.
I
now
got
out
of
bed,
thinking
this
might
be
a
friendly
visit
from
the
ghost
of
the
sick
lad
upstairs,
who
must
have
died.
"As
I
went
to
the
door,
the
thing
passed
before
me,
rapping
on
the
walls.
When
I
was
got
to
the
door
it
knocked
outside;
when
I
opened
the
door,
it
began
to
knock
on
the
turret.
The
moon
was
shining;
I
went
on
to
see
what
would
happen,
but
it
beat
on
the
other
sides
of
the
tower,
and,
as
it
always
evaded
me,
I
went
up
to
see
how
my
patient
was.
He
was
alive,
but
very
weak.
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