Then the intense darkness shut me in.
I crouched back to the wall, revolver in hand, and it seemed as though the blood in my veins had turned to ice.

What legerdemain was this! The candle was there, and not half burned, when I entered.

I saw it with my own eyes.

How then--in the name of God--could it have vanished so completely?
There was no germ of superstition in my nature, and, had there originally been, it could never have out lived the practical experiences of the past few years.

There was but one way to account for this occurrence--some human, aware of my presence, had removed the candle, had stolen through the pitch darkness silently, and as swiftly disappeared.