he window
raised.

In mortal terror of people forcing an entrance at such an hour, and in
such a manner as to leave no doubt of their purpose, I would have
turned to fly when first I heard the noise, only that I feared by any
quick motion to catch their attention, as I also ran the danger of
doing by opening the door, which was all but closed and to whose
handlings I was unaccustomed. Again, quick as lightning, I bethought me
of the hiding-place between the locked door to my husband's
dressing-room and the portiere which covered it; but I gave that up, I
felt as if I could not reach it without screaming or fainting. So I
sank down softly, and crept under the table, hidden as I hoped, by the
great, deep table-cover, with its heavy fringe. I had not recovered my
swooning senses fully, and was trying to reassure myself as to my being
in a place of comparative safety, for, above all things, I dreaded the
betrayal of fainting, and struggled hard for such courage as I might
attain by deadening myself to the danger I was in by inflicting intense
pain on myself. You have often asked me the reason of that mark on my
hand; it was there, in my agony, I bit out a piece of flesh with my
relentless teeth, thankful for the pain, which helped to numb my
terror. I say, I was but just concealed within I heard the window
lifted, and one after another stepped over the sill, and stood by me so
close that I could have touched their feet. Then they laughed and
whispered; my brain swam so that I could not tell the meaning of their
words, but I heard my husband's laughter among the rest--low, hissing,
scornful--as he kicked something heavy that they had dragged in over
the floor, and which layed near me; so near, that my husband's kick, in
touching it, touched me too. I don't know why--I can't tell how--but
some feeling, and not curiosity, prompted me to put out my hand, ever
so softly, ever so little, and feel in the darkness for what lay
spurned beside me. I stole my groping palm upon the clenched and chilly
hand of a corpse!

Strange to say, this roused me to instant vividness of thought. Till
this moment I had almost forgotten Amante; now I planned with feverish
rapidity how I could give her a warning not to return; or rather, I
should say, I tried to plan, for all my projects were utterly futile,
as I might have seen from the first. I could only hope she would hear
the voices of those who were now busy in trying to kindle a light,
swear