Journal Entry 31 - November 13th, 1888 - 11:55 p.m.
It is now nearly midnight, and I am still a prisoner in this room. I heard Mr. Mansfield speaking to someone else in the hall, though I could not discern what they were saying. I should have never come here! Why did I not heed Mr. Moore’s earnest warning? I am also afraid of what is to happen to me. If I live past this night, I swear on my soul that I shall never return to this place or the valley ever again. Since my last entry, I have searched the wardrobe, the drawers of a desk, and underneath my bed. All that I found was a music box of considerable age; its melody brings only melancholy. Perhaps I must thoroughly search this chamber once more.
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