I gazed with a strange mingling of awe and pleasure: the wide expanse of garret was my own, and unexplored! In the middle of it stood an unpainted inclosure of rough planks, the door of which was ajar.

Thinking Mr.Raven might be there, I pushed the door, and entered.
The small chamber was full of light, but such as dwells in places deserted: it had a dull, disconsolate look, as if it found itself of no use, and regretted having come.

A few rather dim sunrays, marking their track through the cloud of motes that had just been stirred up, fell upon a tall mirror with a dusty face, old-fashioned and rather narrow--in appearance an ordinary glass.

It had an ebony frame, on the top of which stood a black eagle, with outstretched wings, in his beak a golden chain, from whose end hung a black ball.
I had been looking at rather than into the mirror, when suddenly I became aware that it reflected neither the chamber nor my own person.

I have an impression of having seen the wall melt away, but what followed is enough to account for any uncertainty:--could I have mistaken for a mirror the glass that protected a wonderful picture?
I saw before me a wild country, broken and heathy.