The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently
approached. When it came, Scrooge bent down
upon his knee; for in the very air through which this
Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and
mystery.
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 knew no more, for the
Spirit neither spoke nor moved.
"I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas
Yet To Come?" said Scrooge.
The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with
its hand.
"You are about to show me shadows of the
things that have not happened, but will happen in
the time before us," Scrooge pursued. "Is that so,
Spirit?"
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.
The Spirit paused a moment, as observing his
condition, and giving him time to recover.
But Scrooge was all the worse for this. 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. But as I know
your purpose si 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. Will you not speak to me?"
It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed
straight before them.
"Lead on!" said Scrooge. "Lead on! The night is
waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know.
Lead on, Spirit!"
The Phantom moved away as it had come
towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow of its
dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried
him along.
They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the
city rather seemed to spring up about them, and
encompass them of its own act. But there they
were, in the heart of it; on Change, amongst the
merchants; who hurried up and down, and chinked
the money in their pockets, and conversed in
groups, and looked at their watches, and trifled
thoughtfully with their great gold seals; and so
forth, as Scrooge had seen them often.
The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of
business men. Observing that the hand was pointed
to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk.
"No," said a great fat man with a monstrous chin,
"I don't know much about it, either way. I only know
he's dead."
"When did he die?" inquired another.
"Last night, I believe."
"Why, what was the matter with him?" asked a
third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very
large snuff-box. "I thought he'd never die."
"God knows," said the first, with a yawn.
"What has he done with his money?" asked a
red-faced gentleman with a pendulous excrescence
on the end of his nose, that shook like the gills of a
turkey-cock.
"I haven't heard," said the man with the large
chin, yawning again. "Left it to his Company,
perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know."
This pleasantry was received with a general
laugh.
"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. Suppose we make up a party
and volunteer?"
"I don't mind going if a lunch is provided,"
observed the gentleman with the excrescence on his
nose. "But I must be fed, if I make one."
Another laugh.