asleep; but shortly awoke with a sudden start. Just as he was trying to recollect where he was, he heard the clock strike twelve, which the watchman in a few moments confirmed. Luckily, he could hear no other noise; though Frank listened attentively.
Just, however, as he was turning on his side, half relapsing into sleep, he plainly heard a door open at some distance; and then it closed again with a pretty smart noise.
“Heaven have mercy on us!” whispered Fear, “Here comes the Spectre!” “No, it is the wind,” replied Courage, “nothing more:” yet the sound came near and more near. It was the heavy step of a man, rattling his chains, as he moved along, or of the chamberlain of some decayed castle, surveying his rooms, and changing his bunch of keys. This could not surely be the wind; Courage was vanquished, and Fear drove Frank’s blood to his heart, till it beat as if it would burst its confines.
The affair grew more serious as the noise drew near; and Frank could not muster courage to get up, and call at the window for assistance. He only drew the bed-clothes closer over him, as the ostrich is said to hide his head in the bushes, if he can no longer avoid his enemy. Other doors opened and shut with hideous noise; till, at length, an attempt was made on that in which our hero slept. A number of keys were tried, and the right one was at last found.
