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"

One

can

hardly

tell

which

is

the

sea

and

which

is

the

land

,

"

said

Prue

.

"

Do

we

leave

that

light

burning

?

"

said

Lily

as

they

took

their

coats

off

indoors

.

"

No

,

"

said

Prue

,

"

not

if

every

one

's

in

.

"

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"

Andrew

,

"

she

called

back

,

"

just

put

out

the

light

in

the

hall

.

"

One

by

one

the

lamps

were

all

extinguished

,

except

that

Mr.

Carmichael

,

who

liked

to

lie

awake

a

little

reading

Virgil

,

kept

his

candle

burning

rather

longer

than

the

rest

.

So

with

the

lamps

all

put

out

,

the

moon

sunk

,

and

a

thin

rain

drumming

on

the

roof

a

downpouring

of

immense

darkness

began

.

Nothing

,

it

seemed

,

could

survive

the

flood

,

the

profusion

of

darkness

which

,

creeping

in

at

keyholes

and

crevices

,

stole

round

window

blinds

,

came

into

bedrooms

,

swallowed

up

here

a

jug

and

basin

,

there

a

bowl

of

red

and

yellow

dahlias

,

there

the

sharp

edges

and

firm

bulk

of

a

chest

of

drawers

.

Not

only

was

furniture

confounded

;

there

was

scarcely

anything

left

of

body

or

mind

by

which

one

could

say

,

"

This

is

he

"

or

"

This

is

she

.

"

Sometimes

a

hand

was

raised

as

if

to

clutch

something

or

ward

off

something

,

or

somebody

groaned

,

or

somebody

laughed

aloud

as

if

sharing

a

joke

with

nothingness

.

Nothing

stirred

in

the

drawing-room

or

in

the

dining-room

or

on

the

staircase

.

Only

through

the

rusty

hinges

and

swollen

sea-moistened

woodwork

certain

airs

,

detached

from

the

body

of

the

wind

(

the

house

was

ramshackle

after

all

)

crept

round

corners

and

ventured

indoors

.

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Almost

one

might

imagine

them

,

as

they

entered

the

drawing-room

questioning

and

wondering

,

toying

with

the

flap

of

hanging

wall-paper

,

asking

,

would

it

hang

much

longer

,

when

would

it

fall

?

Then

smoothly

brushing

the

walls

,

they

passed

on

musingly

as

if

asking

the

red

and

yellow

roses

on

the

wall-paper

whether

they

would

fade

,

and

questioning

(

gently

,

for

there

was

time

at

their

disposal

)

the

torn

letters

in

the

wastepaper

basket

,

the

flowers

,

the

books

,

all

of

which

were

now

open

to

them

and

asking

,

Were

they

allies

?

Were

they

enemies

?

How

long

would

they

endure

?

So

some

random

light

directing

them

with

its

pale

footfall

upon

stair

and

mat

,

from

some

uncovered

star

,

or

wandering

ship

,

or

the

Lighthouse

even

,

with

its

pale

footfall

upon

stair

and

mat

,

the

little

airs

mounted

the

staircase

and

nosed

round

bedroom

doors

.

But

here

surely

,

they

must

cease

.

Whatever

else

may

perish

and

disappear

,

what

lies

here

is

steadfast

.

Here

one

might

say

to

those

sliding

lights

,

those

fumbling

airs

that

breathe

and

bend

over

the

bed

itself

,

here

you

can

neither

touch

nor

destroy

.

Upon

which

,

wearily

,

ghostlily

,

as

if

they

had

feather-light

fingers

and

the

light

persistency

of

feathers

,

they

would

look

,

once

,

on

the

shut

eyes

,

and

the

loosely

clasping

fingers

,

and

fold

their

garments

wearily

and

disappear

And

so

,

nosing

,

rubbing

,

they

went

to

the

window

on

the

staircase

,

to

the

servants

'

bedrooms

,

to

the

boxes

in

the

attics

;

descending

,

blanched

the

apples

on

the

dining-room

table

,

fumbled

the

petals

of

roses

,

tried

the

picture

on

the

easel

,

brushed

the

mat

and

blew

a

little

sand

along

the

floor

.

At

length

,

desisting

,

all

ceased

together

,

gathered

together

,

all

sighed

together

;

all

together

gave

off

an

aimless

gust

of

lamentation

to

which

some

door

in

the

kitchen

replied

;

swung

wide

;

admitted

nothing

;

and

slammed

to

.

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