“By this time, the night had come; though the room was very light with the burning candles; and I found myself glancing behind me, constantly, and then all ’round the room.  It was nervy work waiting for that thing to come.  Then, suddenly, I was aware of a little, cold wind sweeping over me, coming from behind.  I gave one great nerve-thrill, and a prickly feeling went all over the back of my head.  Then I hove myself ’round with a sort of stiff jerk, and stared straight against that queer wind.  It seemed to come from the corner of the room to the left of the bed—­the place where both times I had found the heap of tossed bedclothes.  Yet, I could see nothing unusual; no opening—­nothing!...

“Abruptly, I was aware that the candles were all a-flicker in that unnatural wind....  I believe I just squatted there and stared in a horribly frightened, wooden way for some minutes.  I shall never be able to let you know how disgustingly horrible it was sitting in that vile, cold wind!  And then, flick! flick! flick! all the candles ’round the outer barrier went out; and there was I, locked and sealed in that room, and with no light beyond the weakish blue glare of the Electric Pentacle.

“A time of abominable tenseness passed, and still that wind blew upon me; and then, suddenly, I knew that something stirred in the corner to the left of the bed.  I was made conscious of it, rather by some inward, unused sense than by either sight or sound; for the pale, short-radius glare of the Pentacle gave but a very poor light for seeing by.  Yet, as I stared, something began slowly to grow upon my sight—­a moving shadow, a little darker than the surrounding shadows.  I lost the thing amid the vagueness, and for a moment or two I glanced swiftly from side to side, with a fresh, new sense of impending danger.  Then my attention was directed to the bed.  All the covering’s were being drawn steadily off, with a hateful, stealthy sort of motion.  I heard the slow, dragging slither of the clothes; but I could see nothing of the thing that pulled.  I was aware in a funny, subconscious, introspective fashion that the ‘creep’ had come upon me; yet that I was cooler mentally than I had been for some minutes; sufficiently so to feel that my hands were sweating coldly, and to shift my revolver, half-consciously, whilst I rubbed my right hand dry upon my knee; though never, for an instant, taking my gaze or my attention from those moving clothes.

“The faint noises from the bed ceased once, and there was a most intense silence, with only the sound of the blood beating in my head.  Yet, immediately afterward, I heard again the slurring of the bedclothes being dragged off the bed.  In the midst of my nervous tension I remembered the camera, and reached ’round for it; but without looking away from the bed.  And then, you know, all in a moment, the whole of the bed coverings were torn off with extraordinary violence, and I heard the flump they made as they were hurled into the corner.