The
idea flashed into my brain in a moment that I was looking into the
visage of something monstrous. The huge skull, the mane-like hair, the
wide-humped shoulders, suggested, in a way I did not pause to analyse,
that which was scarcely human; and for some seconds, fascinated by
horror, I returned the gaze and stared into the dark, inscrutable
countenance above me, without knowing exactly where I was or what I
was doing.
Then I realised in quite a new way that I was face to face with the
secret midnight Listener, and I steeled myself as best I could for
what was about to come.
The source of the rash courage that came to me at this awful moment
will ever be to me an inexplicable mystery. Though shivering with
fear, and my forehead wet with an unholy dew, I resolved to advance.
Twenty questions leaped to my lips: What are you? What do you want?p
Why do you listen and watch? Why do you come into my room? But none
of them found articulate utterance.
I began forthwith to climb the stairs, and with the first signs of
my advance he drew himself back into the shadows and began to move. He
retreated as swiftly as I advanced. I heard the sound of his crawling
motion a few steps ahead of me, ever maintaining the same distance.
When I reached the landing he was half-way up the next flight, and
when I was half-way up the next flight he had already arrived at the
top landing. I then heard him open the door of the little square room
under the roof and go in. Immediately, though the door did not close
after him, the sound of his moving entirely ceased.
At this moment I longed for a light, or a stick, or any weapon
whatsoever; but I had none of these things, and it was impossible to
go back. So I marched steadily up the rest of the stairs, and.in less
than a minute found myself standing in the gloom face to face with the
door through which this creature had just entered.
For a moment I hesitated. The door was about half-way open, and the
Listener was standing evidently in his favourite attitude just behind
it—listening. To search through that dark room for him seemed
hopeless; to enter the same small space where he was seemed horrible.
The very idea filled me with loathing, and I almost decided to turn
back.
It is strange at such times how trivial things impinge on the
consciousness with a shock as of something important and immense.
Something—it may have been a beetle or a mouse—scuttled over the
bare boards behind me. The door moved a quarter of an inch, closing. My
decision came back with a sudden rush, as it were, and thrusting out a
foot, I kicked the door so that it swung sharply back to its full
extent, and permitted me to walk forward slowly into the aperture of
profound blackness beyond. What a queer soft sound my bare feet made
on the boards! how the blood sang and buzzed in my head!
I was inside. The darkness closed over me, hiding even the windows.
I began to grope my way round the walls in a thorough search; but in
order to prevent all possibility of the other’s escape, I first of all
closcd the door.
There we were, we two, shut in together between four walls, within
a few feet of one another.
But with what, with whom, was I thus momentarily imprisoned? A new
light flashed suddenly over the affair with a swift, illuminating
brilliance—and I knew I was a fool, an utter fool! I was wide awake
at last, and the horror was evaporating. My cursed nerves again; a
dream, a nightmare, and the old result—walking in my sleep. The
figure was a dream-figure. Many a time before had the actors in my
dreams stood before me for some moments after I was awake… .
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