I now became aware that something interposed between the page and the
light,--the page was over-shadowed. I looked up, and I saw what I
shall find it very difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe.

It was a Darkness shaping itself forth from the air in very undefined
outline. I cannot say it was of a human form, and yet it had more
resemblance to a human form, or rather shadow, than to anything else.
As it stood, wholly apart and distinct from the air and the light
around it, its dimensions seemed gigantic, the summit nearly touching
the ceiling. While I gazed, a feeling of intense cold seized me. An
iceberg before me could not more have chilled me; nor could the cold
of an iceberg have been more purely physical. I feel convinced that it
was not the cold caused by fear. As I continued to gaze, I
thought--but this I cannot say with precision--that I distinguished
two eyes looking down on me from the height. One moment I fancied that
I distinguished them clearly, the next they seemed gone; but still two
rays of a pale-blue light frequently shot through the darkness, as
from the height on which I half believed, half doubted, that I had
encountered the eyes.

I strove to speak,--my voice utterly failed me; I could only think to
myself, "Is this fear? It is _not_ fear!" I strove to rise,--in vain;
I felt as if weighed down by an irresistible force. Indeed, my
impression was that of an immense and overwhelming Power opposed to my
volition,--that sense of utter inadequacy to cope with a force beyond
man's, which one may feel _physically_ in a storm at sea, in a
conflagration, or when confronting some terrible wild beast, or
rather, perhaps, the shark of the ocean, I felt _morally_. Opposed to
my will was another will, as far superior to its strength as storm,
fire, and shark are superior in material force to the force of man.