side of her, crouched thecat. Its white fur was all bristling; its blue eyes were dilated; on itsjaws there were flecks of foam.
I leaned over the dead woman and took it in my arms.
*****
That was nearly twenty years ago, and yet to-night the memory of thatmoment, and what followed it, bring a fear to my heart which I mustcombat. I have read of men who lived for long spaces of time hauntedby demons created by their imagination, and I have laughed at them andpitied them. Surely I am not going to join in their folly, in theirmadness, led to the gates of terror by my own fancies, half-confirmed,apparently, by the chance utterances of a conceited Professor--a man offads, although a man of science.
That was twenty years ago. After to-night let me forget it. Afterto-night, do I say? Hark! the birds are twittering in the dew outside.The pale, early sun-shafts strike over the moors. And I am tired.To-morrow night I will finish this wrestle with my own folly; I willgive the _coup de grace_ to my imagination.. But no more now. My brainis not calm, and I will not write in excitement.