Which sense did it address?
No sense reported anything unusual there. He listened again, and
his sense of hearing again checked the water coming over the Weir,
with its usual sound on a cold starlight night.
Knowing very well that the mystery with which his mind was
occupied, might of itself give the place this haunted air, he
strained those hawk's eyes of his for the correction of his sight.
He got closer to the Weir, and peered at its well-known posts and
timbers. Nothing in the least unusual was remotely shadowed forth.
But he resolved that he would come back early in the morning.
The Weir ran through his broken sleep, all night, and he was back
again at sunrise. It was a bright frosty morning. The whole
composition before him, when he stood where he had stood last
night, was clearly discernible in its minutest details. He had
surveyed it closely for some minutes, and was about to withdraw his
eyes, when they were attracted keenly to one spot.
He turned his back upon the Weir, and looked far away at the sky,
and at the earth, and then looked again at that one spot. It
caught his sight again immediately, and he concentrated his vision
upon it. He could not lose it now, though it was but such a speck
in the landscape. It fascinated his sight. His hands began
plucking off his coat. For it struck him that at that spot--a
corner of the Weir--something glistened, which did not move and
come over with the glistening water-drops, but remained stationary.
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