Across the pond in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees.

No sound broke the stillness of the night.
The wind had gone to rest, the moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds.
I stood alone.
Each minute my surroundings became more real.

I recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit, while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness.

I remembered how it had been said that the pond had no bottom, and that it was haunted by the spirits of those that had been murdered.

The story of its evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition I wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said.
What was that?
The waters moved; distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from their dark depths something appeared--I could not at first tell what.
What could it be?
A monster of frightful mien?
the ghost of some murdered man or woman?
I could have believed in either just then.