er
sufficiently lofty to grace a couch of state, and a number of massive
pieces of old-fashioned furniture. I drew a great claw-footed arm-chair
before the wide fire-place; stirred up the fire; sat looking into it,
and musing upon the odd stories I had heard; until, partly overcome by
the fatigue of the day's hunting, and partly by the wine and wassail of
mine host, I fell asleep in my chair.

The uneasiness of my position made my slumber troubled, and laid me at
the mercy of all kinds of wild and fearful dreams; now it was that my
perfidious dinner and supper rose in rebellion against my peace. I was
hag-ridden by a fat saddle of mutton; a plum pudding weighed like lead
upon my conscience; the merry thought of a capon filled me with
horrible suggestions; and a devilled leg of a turkey stalked in all
kinds of diabolical shapes through my imagination. In short, I had a
violent fit of the nightmare. Some strange indefinite evil seemed
hanging over me that I could not avert; something terrible and
loathsome oppressed me that I could not shake off. I was conscious of
being asleep, and strove to rouse myself, but every effort redoubled
the evil; until gasping, struggling, almost strangling, I suddenly
sprang bolt upright in my chair, and awoke.

The light on the mantel-piece had burnt low, and the wick was divided;
there was a great winding sheet made by the dripping wax, on the side
towards me. The disordered taper emitted a broad flaring flame, and
threw a strong light on a painting over the fire-place, which I had not
hitherto observed.

It consisted merely of a head, or rather a face, that appeared to be
staring full upon me, and with an expression that was startling. It was
without a frame, and at the first glance I could hardly persuade myself
that it was not a real face, thrusting itself out of the dark oaken
pannel. I sat in my chair gazing at it, and the more I gazed the more
it disquieted me. I had never before been affected in the same way by
any painting. The emotions it caused were strange and indefinite. They
were something like what I have heard ascribed to the eyes of the
basilisk; or like that mysterious influence in reptiles termed
fascination. I passed my hand over my eyes several times, as if seeking
instinctively to brush away this allusion--in vain--they instantly
reverted to the picture, and its chilling, creeping influence over my
flesh was redoubled.

I looked around the room on other pictures,