My heart beat high at the hope of escape. But I had
scarcely taken one step before the moaning was renewed--it changed
into a threatening growl that would have suited a wolf's throat,
and a hand clutched at my sleeve. I stood motionless. The
muttering growl sank to a moan again, the chain sounded no more,
but still the hand held its gripe of my garment, and I feared to
move. It knew of my presence, then. My brain reeled, the blood
boiled in my ears, and my knees lost all strength, while my heart
panted like that of a deer in the wolf's jaws. I sank back, and
the benumbing influence of excessive terror reduced me to a state
of stupor.
When my full consciousness returned I was sitting on the edge of
the bed, shivering with cold, and barefooted. All was silent, but
I felt that my sleeve was still clutched by my unearthly visitant.
The silence lasted a long time. Then followed a chuckling laugh
that froze my very marrow, and the gnashing of teeth as in demoniac
frenzy; and then a wailing moan, and this was succeeded by silence.
Hours may have passed--nay, though the tumult of my own heart
prevented my hearing the clock strike, must have passed--but they
seemed ages to me.
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