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Hodgson, William Hope, 1877-1918

"The House on the Borderland"

The semi-darkness
troubles me little. I have lost that awful sense of dread, and my only
desire seems to be to sleep--sleep.
Suddenly, although there is no noise, I am awake--wide awake. I am
acutely conscious of the nearness of some mystery, of some overwhelming
Presence. The very air seems pregnant with terror. I sit huddled, and
just listen, intently. Still, there is no sound. Nature, herself, seems
dead. Then, the oppressive stillness is broken by a little eldritch
scream of wind, that sweeps 'round the house, and dies away, remotely.
I let my gaze wander across the half-lighted room. By the great clock
in the far corner, is a dark, tall shadow. For a short instant, I stare,
frightenedly. Then, I see that it is nothing, and am, momentarily,
relieved.
In the time that follows, the thought flashes through my brain, why
not leave this house--this house of mystery and terror? Then, as though
in answer, there sweeps up, across my sight, a vision of the wondrous
Sea of Sleep,--the Sea of Sleep where she and I have been allowed to
meet, after the years of separation and sorrow; and I know that I shall
stay on here, whatever happens.


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