Then, with a movement so unexpected that I started backward, she sat up. Noticing that she seemed giddy, I put out my hand to steady her. At
that, she gave a loud scream, and, scrambling to her feet, ran from
the room. For a moment, I stayed there--kneeling and holding the brandy flask. I
was utterly puzzled and astonished. Could she be afraid of me? But no! Why should she? I could only
conclude that her nerves were badly shaken, and that she was temporarily
unhinged. Upstairs, I heard a door bang, loudly, and I knew that she had
taken refuge in her room. I put the flask down on the table. My
attention was distracted by a noise in the direction of the back door. I
went toward it, and listened. It appeared to be shaken, as though some
of the creatures struggled with it, silently; but it was far too
strongly constructed and hung to be easily moved. Out in the gardens rose a continuous sound. It might have been
mistaken, by a casual listener, for the grunting and squealing of a herd
of pigs. But, as I stood there, it came to me that there was sense and
meaning to all those swinish noises. Gradually, I seemed able to trace
a semblance in it to human speech--glutinous and sticky, as though each
articulation were made with difficulty: yet, nevertheless, I was
becoming convinced that it was no mere medley of sounds; but a rapid
interchange of ideas. By this time, it had grown quite dark in the passages, and from these
came all the varied cries and groans of which an old house is so full
after nightfall. It is, no doubt, because things are then quieter, and
one has more leisure to hear. Also, there may be something in the theory
that the sudden change of temperature, at sundown, affects the structure
of the house, somewhat--causing it to contract and settle, as it were,
for the night. However, this is as may be; but, on that night in
particular, I would gladly have been quit of so many eerie noises. It
seemed to me, that each crack and creak was the coming of one of those
Things along the dark corridors; though I knew in my heart that this
could not be, for I had seen, myself, that all the doors were secure. Gradually, however, these sounds grew on my nerves to such an extent
that, were it only to punish my cowardice, I felt I must make the 'round
of the basement again, and, if anything were there, face it. And then, I
would go up to my study, for I knew sleep was out of the question, with
the house surrounded by creatures, half beasts, half something else, and
entirely unholy. Taking the kitchen lamp down from its hook, I made my way from cellar
to cellar, and room to room; through pantry and coal-hole--along
passages, and into the hundred-and-one little blind alleys and hidden
nooks that form the basement of the old house. Then, when I knew I had
been in every corner and cranny large enough to conceal aught of any
size, I made my way to the stairs. With my foot on the first step, I paused. It seemed to me, I heard a
movement, apparently from the buttery, which is to the left of the
staircase. It had been one of the first places I searched, and yet, I
felt certain my ears had not deceived me. My nerves were strung now,
and, with hardly any hesitation, I stepped up to the door, holding the
lamp above my head. In a glance, I saw that the place was empty, save
for the heavy, stone slabs, supported by brick pillars; and I was about
to leave it, convinced that I had been mistaken; when, in turning, my
light was flashed back from two bright spots outside the window, and
high up. For a few moments, I stood there, staring. Then they
moved--revolving slowly, and throwing out alternate scintillations of
green and red; at least, so it appeared to me. I knew then that they
were eyes. Slowly, I traced the shadowy outline of one of the Things. It appeared
to be holding on to the bars of the window, and its attitude suggested
climbing. I went nearer to the window, and held the light higher. There
was no need to be afraid of the creature; the bars were strong, and
there was little danger of its being able to move them. And then,
suddenly, in spite of the knowledge that the brute could not reach to
harm me, I had a return of the horrible sensation of fear, that had
assailed me on that night, a week previously. It was the same feeling of
helpless, shuddering fright. I realized, dimly, that the creature's eyes
were looking into mine with a steady, compelling stare. I tried to turn
away; but could not. I seemed, now, to see the window through a mist. Then, I thought other eyes came and peered, and yet others; until a
whole galaxy of malignant, staring orbs seemed to hold me in thrall. My head began to swim, and throb violently. Then, I was aware of a
feeling of acute physical pain in my left hand. It grew more severe, and
forced, literally forced, my attention. With a tremendous effort, I
glanced down; and, with that, the spell that had held me was broken. I
realized, then, that I had, in my agitation, unconsciously caught hold
of the hot lamp-glass, and burnt my hand, badly. I looked up to the
window, again. The misty appearance had gone, and, now, I saw that it
was crowded with dozens of bestial faces. With a sudden access of rage,
I raised the lamp, and hurled it, full at the window. It struck the
glass (smashing a pane), and passed between two of the bars, out into
the garden, scattering burning oil as it went. I heard several loud
cries of pain, and, as my sight became accustomed to the dark, I
discovered that the creatures had left the window. Pulling myself together, I groped for the door, and, having found it,
made my way upstairs, stumbling at each step. I felt dazed, as though I
had received a blow on the head. At the same time, my hand smarted
badly, and I was full of a nervous, dull rage against those Things. Reaching my study, I lit the candles. As they burnt up, their rays were
reflected from the rack of firearms on the sidewall. At the sight, I
remembered that I had there a power, which, as I had proved earlier,
seemed as fatal to those monsters as to more ordinary animals; and I
determined I would take the offensive. First of all, I bound up my hand; for the pain was fast becoming
intolerable. After that, it seemed easier, and I crossed the room, to
the rifle stand. There, I selected a heavy rifle--an old and tried
weapon; and, having procured ammunition, I made my way up into one of
the small towers, with which the house is crowned. From there, I found that I could see nothing. The gardens presented a
dim blur of shadows--a little blacker, perhaps, where the trees stood. That was all, and I knew that it was useless to shoot down into all that
darkness. The only thing to be done, was to wait for the moon to rise;
then, I might be able to do a little execution. In the meantime, I sat still, and kept my ears open. The gardens were
comparatively quiet now, and only an occasional grunt or squeal came up
to me.