2l6 MARK TWAIN'S SKETCHES. 



I was glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mould and the 

 darkness. A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down before it with a 

 comforting sense of relief. For two hours I sat there, thinking of bygone times ; 

 recalling old scenes, and summoning half-forgotten faces out of the mists of the past ; 

 listening, in fancy, to voices that long ago grew silent for all time, and to once 

 familiar songs that nobody sings now. And as my reverie softened down to a 

 sadder and sadder pathos, the shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail, the 

 angry beating of the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquil patter, and one 

 by one the noises in the street subsided, until the hurrying footsteps of the last 

 belated straggler died away in the distance and left no sound behind. 



The fire had burned low. A sense of loneliness crept over me. I arose and 

 undressed, moving on tip-toe about the room, doing stealthily what I had to do, as 

 if I were environed' by sleeping enemies whose slumbers it would be fatal to break. 

 I covered up in bed, and lay listening to the rain and wind and the faint creaking 

 of distant shutters, till they lulled me to sleep. 



I slept profoundly, but how long I do not know. All at once I found myself 

 awake, and filled with a shuddering expectancy. All was still. All but my own 

 heart — I could hear it beat. Presently the bed clothes began to slip away slowly 

 toward the foot of the bed, as if some one were pulling them ! I could not stir; I 

 could not speak. Still the blankets slipped deliberately away, till my breast was 

 uncovered. Then with a great effort I seized them and drew them over my head. 

 I waited, listened, waited. Once more that steady pull began, and once more I lay 

 torpid a century of dragging seconds till my breast was naked again. At last I 

 roused my energies and snatched the covers back to their place and held them with 

 a strong grip. I waited. By and bye I felt a faint tug, and took a fresh grip. The 

 tug strengthened to a steady strain — it grew stronger and stronger. My hold parted, 

 and for the third time the blankets slid away. I groaned. An answering groan 

 came from the foot of the bed ! Beaded drops of sweat stood upon my forehead. 

 I was more dead than alive. Presently I heard a heavy footstep in my room — the 

 step of an elephant, it seemed to me — it was not like anything human. But it was 

 moving /"roOT me — there was relief in that. I heard it approach the door — pass out 

 without moving bolt or lock — and wander away among the dismal corridors, 



