Christmas Carol Stave 4

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand.

But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread.

“You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,” Scrooge pursued.

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head.

That was the only answer he received.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it.

The Spirit paused a moment, as observing his condition, and giving him time to recover.

The Spirit paused a moment, as observing his condition, and giving him time to recover.

It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black.

“Ghost of the Future!” he exclaimed, “I fear you more than any spectre I have seen.

“Ghost of the Future!” he exclaimed, “I fear you more than any spectre I have seen.

But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.

But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.

They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its own act.

Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk.

“It’s likely to be a very cheap funeral,” said the same speaker; “for upon my life I don’t know of anybody to go to it.

“It’s likely to be a very cheap funeral,” said the same speaker; “for upon my life I don’t know of anybody to go to it.

Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards the Spirit for an explanation.

He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem: in a business point of view, that is; strictly in a business point of view.

Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial; but feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be.

Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial; but feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be.

Nor could he think of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom he could apply them.

Nor could he think of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom he could apply them.

For he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed, and would render the solution of these riddles easy.

He looked about in that very place for his own image; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the Porch.

When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyes were looking at him keenly.

It made him shudder, and feel very cold.

The ways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people half-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly.

Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetling shop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal, were bought.

Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds.

Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds.

While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool; crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at the other two.

“What odds then!

“It’s a judgment on him.”

Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it.

But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man in faded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder.

“You were born to make your fortune,” said Joe, “and you’ll certainly do it.”

“You were born to make your fortune,” said Joe, “and you’ll certainly do it.”

He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed: a bare, uncurtained bed: on which, beneath a ragged sheet, there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language.

The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was.

The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was.

Its steady hand was pointed to the head.

The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge’s part, would have disclosed the face.

He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre at his side.

It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man’s.

“If there is any person in the town, who feels emotion caused by this man’s death,” said Scrooge quite agonised, “show that person to me, Spirit, I beseech you!”

“If there is any person in the town, who feels emotion caused by this man’s death,” said Scrooge quite agonised, “show that person to me, Spirit, I beseech you!”

At length the long-expected knock was heard.

“If he relents,” she said, amazed, “there is!

She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth; but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so, with clasped hands.

Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood.