cold seized me. An iceberg before me could not more have chilled
me; nor could the cold of an iceberg have been more purely
physical. I feel convinced that it was not the cold caused by
fear. As I continued to gaze, I thought--but this I cannot say
with precision--that I distinguished two eyes looking down on me
from the height. One moment I fancied that I distinguished them
clearly, the next they seemed gone; but still two rays of a pale-
blue light frequently shot through the darkness, as from the height
on which I half believed, half doubted, that I had encountered the
eyes.

I strove to speak,--my voice utterly failed me; I could only think
to myself, "Is this fear? It is NOT fear!" I strove to rise,--in
vain; I felt as if weighed down by an irresistible force. Indeed,
my impression was that of an immense and overwhelming Power opposed
to my volition,--that sense of utter inadequacy to cope with a
force beyond man's, which one may feel PHYSICALLY in a storm at
sea, in a conflagration, or when confronting some terrible wild
beast, or rather, perhaps, the shark of the ocean, I felt MORALLY.
Opposed to my will was another will, as far superior to its
strength as storm, fire, and shark are superior in material force
to the force of man.

And now, as this impression grew on me,--now came, at last, horror,
horror to a degree that no words can convey. Still I retained
pride, if not courage; and in my own mind I said, "This is horror;
but it is not fear; unless I fear I cannot be harmed; my reason
rejects this thing; it is an illusion,--I do not fear." With a
violent effort I succeeded at last in stretching out my hand toward
the weapon on the table; as I did so, on the arm and shoulder I