From the lid or from my own throat--I could not distinguish--there came a creak and a long groan.

I tore back the board and fell on the heath with one shuddering breath of relief.
And drawing it, I raised my head and looked over the coffin's edge.
Still drawing it, I tumbled back.
White, cold, with the last struggle fixed on its features and open eyes, it was my own dead face that stared up at me! IV.
WHAT I HAVE SINCE LEARNT.
They found me, next morning, lying on the brink of the tarn, and carried me back to the inn.

There I lay for weeks in a brain fever and talked-- as they assure me--the wildest nonsense.

The landlord had first guessed that something was amiss on finding the front door open when he came down at five o'clock.

I must have turned to the left on leaving the house, travelled up the road for a hundred yards, and then struck almost at right angles across the moor.