that inch by inch the _thing_ on the floor was circling round
in our direction.

Suddenly in the breathing darkness I felt it close upon us, gave one
mortal yell of fear, and, with a last despairing fury, tore myself from
the encircling arms, and sprang into the corridor without. As I plunged
and leapt, the warder clutched at me, missed, caught a foot on the edge
of the door, and, as the latter whirled to with a clap, fell heavily at
my feet in a fit. Then, as I stood staring down upon him, steps sounded
along the corridor and the voices of scared men hurrying up.

* * * * *

Ill and shaken, and, for the time, little in love with life, yet fearing
death as I had never dreaded it before, I spent the rest of that horrible
night huddled between my crumpled sheets, fearing to look forth, fearing
to think, wild only to be far away, to be housed in some green and
innocent hamlet, where I might forget the madness and the terror in
learning to walk the unvext paths of placid souls. I had not fairly
knocked under until alone with my new dread familiar. That unction I
could lay to my heart, at least. I had done the manly part by the
stricken warder, whom I had attended to his own home, in a row of little
tenements that stood south of the prison walls. I had replied to all
inquiries with some dignity and spirit, attributing my ruffled condition
to an assault on the part of Johnson, when he was already under the
shadow of his seizure. I had directed his removal, and grudged him no
professional attention that it was in my power to bestow. But afterwards,
locked into my room, my whole nervous system broke up like a trodden
ant-hill, leaving me conscious of nothing but an aimless scurrying terror
and the black swarm of thoughts, so that I verily fancied my reason would
give under the strain.

Yet I had more to endure and to triumph over.

Near morning I fell into a troubled sleep, throughout which the drawn
twitch of muscle seemed an accent on every word of ill-omen I had ever
spelt out of the alphabet of fear. If my body rested, my brain was an
open chamber for any toad of ugliness that listed to "sit at squat" in.

Suddenly I woke to the fact that there was a knocking at my door--that
there had been for some little time.

I cried, "Come in!" finding a weak restorative in the mere sound of my
own human voice; then, remembering the key was turned, bade the visitor
wait until I could come to him.