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<h3>THE LAST OF THE SPIRITS</h3>
The phantom slowly，gravely，silently approached. When it came near him，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 his 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.
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