Sketches New and Old


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tread was explained.  
I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a long  
time, peering into the darkness, and listening. Then I heard a grating  
noise overhead, like the dragging of a heavy body across the floor; then  
the throwing down of the body, and the shaking of my windows in response  
to the concussion. In distant parts of the building I heard the muffled  
slamming of doors. I heard, at intervals, stealthy footsteps creeping in  
and out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. Sometimes these  
noises approached my door, hesitated, and went away again. I heard the  
clanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened while the  
clanking grew nearer--while it wearily climbed the stairways, marking  
each move by the loose surplus of chain that fell with an accented rattle  
upon each succeeding step as the goblin that bore it advanced. I heard  
muttered sentences; half-uttered screams that seemed smothered violently;  
and the swish of invisible garments, the rush of invisible wings. Then I  
became conscious that my chamber was invaded--that I was not alone.  
I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious whisperings.  
Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on the ceiling  
directly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and then dropped  
--two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They spattered,  
liquidly, and felt warm. Intuition told me they had turned to gouts of  
blood as they fell--I needed no light to satisfy myself of that. Then I  
saw pallid faces, dimly luminous, and white uplifted hands, floating  
bodiless in the air--floating a moment and then disappearing.  
The whispering ceased, and the voices and the sounds, and a solemn  
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Page
267 268 269 270 271

Quick Jump
1 101 201 302 402