h, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful
face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell upon me,
with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to paralyze
me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely
making a deep gash above the forehead. The shovel fell from my hand
across the box, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caught
the edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the horrid thing
from my sight. The last glimpse I had was of the bloated face,
blood-stained and fixed with a grin of malice which would have held
its own in the nethermost hell.

I thought and thought what should be my next move, but my brain seemed
on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling growing over me. As I
waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song sung by merry voices
coming closer, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheels and
the cracking of whips. The Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Count
had spoken were coming. With a last look around and at the box which
contained the vile body, I ran from the place and gained the Count's
room, determined to rush out at the moment the door should be opened.
With strained ears, I listened, and heard downstairs the grinding of
the key in the great lock and the falling back of the heavy door.
There must have been some other means of entry, or some one had a key
for one of the locked doors.

Then there came the sound of many feet tramping and dying away in some
passage which sent up a clanging echo. I turned to run down again
towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance, but at the
moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the door to
the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from the
lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that it was
hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was
closing round me more closely.

As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many tramping feet
and the crash of weights being set down heavily, doubtless the boxes,
with their freight of earth. There was a sound of hammering. It is
the box being nailed down. Now I can hear the heavy feet tramping
again along the hall, with many other idle feet coming behind them.

The door is shut, the chains rattle. There is a grinding of the key
in the lock. I can hear the key withdrawn, then another door opens
and shuts. I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.