And now, as this impression grew on me,--now came, at last, horror,
horror to a degree that no words can convey. Still I retained pride,
if not courage; and in my own mind I said, "This is horror, but it is
not fear; unless I fear I cannot be harmed; my reason rejects this
thing; it is an illusion,--I do not fear." With a violent effort I
succeeded at last in stretching out my hand towards the weapon on the
table; as I did so, on the arm and shoulder I received a strange
shock, and my arm fell to my side powerless. And now, to add to my
horror, the light began slowly to wane from the candles,--they were
not, as it were, extinguished, but their flame seemed very gradually
withdrawn; it was the same with the fire,--the light was extracted
from the fuel; in a few minutes the room was in utter darkness. The
dread that came over me, to be thus in the dark with that dark Thing,
whose power was so intensely felt, brought a reaction of nerve. In
fact, terror had reached that climax, that either my senses must have
deserted me, or I must have burst through the spell. I did burst
through it. I found voice, though the voice was a shriek. I remember
that I broke forth with words like these, "I do not fear, my soul does
not fear;" and at the same time I found strength to rise. Still in
that profound gloom I rushed to one of the windows; tore aside the
curtain; flung open the shutters; my first thought was--LIGHT. And
when I saw the moon high, clear, and calm, I felt a joy that almost
compensated for the previous terror. There was the moon, there was
also the light from the gas-lamps in the deserted slumberous street. I
turned to look back into the room; the moon penetrated its shadow very
palely and partially,--but still there was light. The dark Thing,
whatever it might be, was gone,--except that I could yet see a dim
shadow, which seemed the shadow of that shade, against the opposite
wall.