Even When My Back Was Turned To It, The Idea
Of This Strange Face Behind Me, Peering Over My Shoulder, Was
Insufferable.
I threw off my clothes and hurried into bed; but still
this visage gazed upon me.
I had a full view of it from my bed, and for
some time could not take my eyes from it. I had grown nervous to a
dismal degree.
I put out the light, and tried to force myself to sleep; - all in vain!
The fire gleaming up a little, threw an uncertain light about the room,
leaving, however, the region of the picture in deep shadow. What,
thought I, if this be the chamber about which mine host spoke as having
a mystery reigning over it? - I had taken his words merely as spoken in
jest; might they have a real import? I looked around. The faintly
lighted apartment had all the qualifications requisite for a haunted
chamber. It began in my infected imagination to assume strange
appearances. The old portraits turned paler and paler, and blacker and
blacker; the streaks of light and shadow thrown among the quaint old
articles of furniture, gave them singular shapes and characters. There
was a huge dark clothes-press of antique form, gorgeous in brass and
lustrous with wax, that began to grow oppressive to me.
Am I then, thought I, indeed, the hero of the haunted room? Is there
really a spell laid upon me, or is this all some contrivance of mine
host, to raise a laugh at my expense?
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