CHAPTER XXV 359
" Fearful and ghastly to me-- oh, sir, I never saw a face like it! It was a discoloured face-- it was a savage face. I wish I could forget the roll of the red eyes and the fearful blackened inflation of the lineaments!"
" Ghosts are usually pale, Jane."
" This, sir, was purple: the lips were swelled and dark; the brow furrowed: the black eyebrows widely raised over the bloodshot eyes. Shall I tell you of what it reminded me?"
" You may." " Of the foul German spectre-- the Vampyre." " Ah!-- what did it do?"
" Sir, it removed my veil from its gaunt head, rent it in two parts, and flinging both on the floor, trampled on them."
" Afterwards?"
" It drew aside the window-curtain and looked out; perhaps it saw dawn approaching, for, taking the candle, it retreated to the door. Just at my bedside, the figure stopped: the fiery eyes glared upon me-- she thrust up her candle close to my face, and extinguished it under my eyes. I was aware her lurid visage flamed over mine, and I lost consciousness: for the second time in my life-- only the second time-- I became insensible from terror."
" Who was with you when you revived?"
" No one, sir, but the broad day. I rose, bathed my head and face in water, drank a long draught; felt that though enfeebled I was not ill, and determined that to none but you would I impart this vision. Now, sir, tell me who and what that woman was?"