moment, the reverse; now it was
slow, now quick; until at length, in a paroxysm of curiosity and fear, I
cautiously opened my door and peeped out. It was a light night, and the
glass face of the clock flashed back the moonbeams with startling
brilliancy. A grim and subdued hush hung over the staircases and
landings. The ticking was now low; but as I listened intently, it
gradually grew louder and louder, until, to my horror, the colossal
frame swayed violently backwards and forwards. Unable to stand the sight
of it any longer, and fearful of what I might see next, I retreated into
my room, and, carefully locking the door, lit the gas, and got into
bed. At three o'clock the ticking once again became normal. The
following night the same thing occurred, and I discovered that certain
other members of the household had also heard it. My friend rapidly grew
worse, and the irregularities of the clock became more and more
pronounced, more and more disturbing. Then there came a morning, when,
between two and three o'clock, unable to lie in bed and listen to the
ticking any longer, I got up. An irresistible attraction dragged me to
the door. I peeped out, and there, with the moonlight concentrated on
its face as before, swayed the clock, backwards and forwards, backwards
and forwards, slowly and solemnly; and with each movement there issued
from within it a hollow, agonised voice, the counterpart of that of my
sick friend, exclaiming, "Oh dear! Oh dear! It is coming! It is coming!"

I was so fascinated, so frightened, that I could not remove my gaze, but
was constrained to stand still and stare at it; and all the while there
was a dull, mechanical repetition of the words: "Oh dear! Oh dear! It is
coming, it is coming!" Half an hour passed in this manner, and the hands
indicated five minutes to three, when a creak on the staircase made me
look round. My heart turned to ice--there, half-way down the stairs, was
a tall, black figure, its polished ebony skin shining in the moonbeams.
I saw only its body at first, for I was far too surprised even to glance
at its face. As it glided noiselessly towards me, however, obeying an
uncontrollable impulse, I looked. There was no face at all, only two
eyes--two long, oblique, half-open eyes--grey and sinister,
inexpressibly, hellishly sinister--and, as they met my gaze, they smiled
gleefully. They passed on, the door of the clock swung open, and the
figure stepped inside and vanished! I was now