His eyes were still looking eagerly over the right-hand side of the bed when the final flash of light came, but they discovered nothing.

The fair woman with the knife was gone.
The conviction that he was alone again weakened the hold of the terror that had struck him dumb up to this time.

The preternatural sharpness which the very intensity of his panic had mysteriously imparted to his faculties left them suddenly.

His brain grew confused--his heart beat wildly--his ears opened for the first time since the appearance of the woman to a sense of the woeful ceaseless moaning of the wind among the trees.

With the dreadful conviction of the reality of what he had seen still strong within him, he leaped out of bed, and screaming "Murder! Wake up, there! wake up!" dashed headlong through the darkness to the door.
It was fast locked, exactly as he had left it on going to bed.
His cries on starting up had alarmed the house.