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Hodgson, William Hope, 1877-1918

"The House on the Borderland"


Gradually, imperceptibly almost, something stole on my ear--a sound
that resolved itself into a faint murmur. Quickly it developed and grew
into a muffled but hideous chorus of bestial shrieks. It appeared to
rise from the bowels of the earth.
I heard a thud, and realized in a dull, half comprehending way that I
had dropped my book. After that, I just sat; and thus the daylight found
me, when it crept wanly in through the barred, high windows of the
great kitchen.
With the dawning light, the feeling of stupor and fear left me; and I
came more into possession of my senses.
Thereupon I picked up my book, and crept to the door to listen. Not a
sound broke the chilly silence. For some minutes I stood there; then,
very gradually and cautiously, I drew back the bolt and opening the door
peeped out.
My caution was unneeded. Nothing was to be seen, save the grey vista of
dreary, tangled bushes and trees, extending to the distant plantation.
With a shiver, I closed the door, and made my way, quietly, up to bed.


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