the window, which was faintly visible, he knew he must be at the
foot of the bed, and had only to feel his way along it in order to
reach the table in question.

He lowered his hand, but what it touched was not simply a
counterpane - it was a counterpane with something underneath it
like the outline of a human leg. Silas withdrew his arm and stood
a moment petrified.

"What, what," he thought, "can this betoken?"

He listened intently, but there was no sound of breathing. Once
more, with a great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to
the spot he had already touched; but this time he leaped back half
a yard, and stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was
something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but there was
something there.

It was some seconds before he could move. Then, guided by an
instinct, he fell straight upon the matches, and keeping his back
towards the bed lighted a candle. As soon as the flame had
kindled, he turned slowly round and looked for what he feared to
see. Sure enough, there was the worst of his imaginations
realised. The coverlid was drawn carefully up over the pillow, but
it moulded the outline of a human body lying motionless; and when
he dashed forward and flung aside the sheets, he beheld the blond
young man whom he had seen in the Bullier Ball the night before,
his eyes open and without speculation, his face swollen and
blackened, and a thin stream of blood trickling from his nostrils.