Three times he did this, in an attitude more of warning than of anger, when, at length, he turned and approached the haunted house, at the door of which he disappeared.
Woodward, as the reader must have perceived, was a strong-minded, fearless man, and examined the awful features of this inscrutable being closely.
"This, then," thought he, "is the _Shan-dhinne-dhuv_, or the Black Spectre; but, be it what it may, I am strongly of opinion that it was present at the bonfire last night, and as I am well armed, I will unquestionably pursue it into the house.

Nay, what is more, I suspect that it is in some way or I other connected with the outlaw _Shawn-na-Middogue_, who it was, they say, made that amazing leap over the aforesaid bonfire in my own presence." On that very account, however, he reflected that such an intrusion might be attended with more danger than that to be apprehended from a ghost.
He consequently paused for some time before he could decide on following up such a perilous resolution.

While he thus stood deliberating upon the prudence of this daring exploit, he heard a variety of noises, and knockings, and rollings, as if of empty barrels, and rattling of chains, all going on inside, whilst the house itself appeared to be dark and still, without smoke from the chimneys, or light in the windows, or any other symptom of being inhabited, unless by those who were producing the wild and extraordinary noises he then heard.
"If I do not see this out," said he, "my account of it will go to add another page to the great volume of superstition.

I am armed, not a whit afraid, and I will see it out, if human enterprise can effect it." He immediately entered the door, which he found, somewhat to his surprise, was only laid to, and, after listening for a few moments, resolved to examine the premises closely.

In deference to the reader, whose nerves may not be so strong as those of Henry Woodward, and who consequently may entertain a very decided objection to enter a haunted house, especially one in such a lonely and remote situation, we will only say that he remained in it for at least an hour and a half; at the expiration of which time he left it, walked home in a silent and meditative mood, spoke little to his family, who were a good deal surprised at his abstracted manner, and, after sipping a tumbler of punch with his step-father, went rather gloomily to bed.
The next morning at breakfast he looked a good deal paler than they had yet seen him, and for some time his contribution to the family dialogue was rather scanty.
"Harry," said his mother, "what is the matter with you?
You are silent, and look pale.