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"Be that you, sir?" cried a ain, "this way!" The words seeht advanced once more, and as he

came up, I ht he carried was the lanthorn of a chaise

"Why--sir!" he began, looking ht of his

lanthorn, "strike me lucky if I'd ha' knowed ye! you looks as if

--oh, Lord!"

"What is it?" said I, wiping the rain froain The

Postilion's ansas to lower his lanthorn towards the face of

hi

where he pointed, I started suddenly backwards, and shivered,

with a strange stirring of the flesh

For I saw a pale face with a streak of blood upon the cheek

--there was blood upon my own; a face framed in lank hair, thick

and black--as was my own; a pale, aquiline face, with a pro, cleft chin--even asdown upon this face, ht have been looking into a mirror--the

face was the face of myself