She was assured now
that the thing she had followed was nothing human, neither was it a
delusion, for when she shut her eyes and opened them, it was still
there--and, oddly enough, it was now more distinct than it was when
she had seen it downstairs. A curious feeling of helplessness stole
over Diana; the power of speech forsook her; and her limbs grew rigid.
She was so fearful, too, of attracting the notice of the mysterious
thing that she hardly dare breathe, and each pulsation of her heart
sent cold chills of apprehension down her spine. Once she endured
agonies through a mad desire to sneeze, and once her lips opened to
scream as something suspiciously like the antennae of a huge beetle,
and which she subsequently discovered was a "devil's coach-horse,"
tickled the calf of her leg. She fancied, too, that all sorts of queer
shapes lurked in the passage behind her, and that innumerable unseen
eyes were malignantly rejoicing in her terror. At last, the climax to
her suspense seemed at hand. The unknown thing, until now too busy
with the clock to take heed of her, paused for a moment or so, as if
undecided what to do next, and then slowly began to veer round. But
the faint echo of a voice below, calling her by name, broke the
hypnotic spell that bound Diana to the floor, and with a frantic
spring she cleared the threshold of the room. She then tore madly
downstairs, never halting till she reached the dining-room, where she
sank on a sofa, and, more dead than alive, panted out to her amazed
sisters a full account of all that had transpired.
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