At the first opportunity I got up, and signalling my intention to go to
bed, was preparing to leave my seat, when my host, walking to a
cupboard, fetched out a bottle of cognac, and pouring out a tumbler,
handed it me with a mien that I dare not refuse.

"The woman then led me up a flight of rickety, wooden steps and into a
sepulchral-looking chamber with no other furniture in it save a long,
narrow, iron bedstead, a dilapidated washstand, a very unsteady, common
deal table, on which was a looking-glass and a collar stud, and a
rush-bottomed chair. Setting the candlestick on the dressing-table, and
assuring me again that the bed was well aired, my hostess withdrew,
observing as she left the room that she would get me a nice breakfast
and call me at seven. At seven! How I wished it was seven now! As I
stood in the midst of the floor shivering--for the room was icy cold, I
suddenly saw a dark shadow emerge from a remote corner of the room and
slide surreptitiously towards the door, where it halted. My eyes then
fell on the lock, and I perceived that there was no key. No key! And
that evil-looking pair below! I must barricade the door somehow. Yet
with what? There was nothing of any weight in the room! Nothing! I began
to feel horribly tired and sleepy--so sleepy that it was only with
supreme effort I could prevent my eyelids closing. Ah! I had it--a
wedge! I had a knife. Of wood there was plenty--a piece off the
washstand, table, or chair. Anything would suffice. I essayed to
struggle to the chair, my limbs tottered, my eyelids closed. Then the
shadow from the doorway moved towards and THROUGH me, and with the
coldness of its passage I revived! With desperate energy I cut a couple
of chunks off the washstand, and paring them down, eventually succeeded
in slipping them in the crack of the door, and rendering it impossible
to open from the outside. That done, I staggered to the bed, and
falling, dressed as I was, on the counterpane, sank into a deep sleep.
How long I slept I cannot say. I suddenly heard the loud neighing of a
horse which seemed to come from just under my window, and, as in a
vision, saw by my side in the bed a something which gradually developed
into the figure of a man, the counterpart of the mysterious being in the
shaggy coat who had guided me to the house. He was fully dressed, sound
asleep and breathing heavily. As I was looking a dark shadow fell across
the sleeper's face, and on glancing up I perceive