Червона кімната

           Ibruisedmyselfinthethighagainstthetable,Isentachairheadlong,Istumbledandfellandwhiskedtheclothfromthetableinmyfall. MycandlerolledawayfrommeandIsnatchedanotherasIrose. AbruptlythiswasblownoutasIswungitoffthetablebythewindofmysuddenmovement,andimmediatelythetworemainingcandlesfollowed. Buttherewaslightstillintheroom,aredlight,thatstreamedacrosstheceilingandstavedofftheshadowsfromme. Thefire! OfcourseIcouldstillthrustmycandlebetweenthebarsandrelightit. 

           Iturnedtowheretheflameswerestilldancingbetweentheglowingcoalsandsplashingredreflectionsuponthefurniture; madetwostepstowardthegrate,andincontinentlytheflamesdwindledandvanished,theglowvanished,thereflectionsrushedtogetheranddisappeared,andasIthrustthecandlebetweenthebarsdarknesscloseduponmeliketheshuttingofaneye,wrappedaboutmeinastiflingembrace,sealedmyvision,andcrushedthelastvestigesofself-possessionfrommybrain.Anditwasnotonlypalpabledarkness,butintolerableterror. Thecandlefellfrommyhands. Iflungoutmyarmsinavainefforttothrustthatponderousblacknessawayfromme,andliftingupmyvoice,screamedwithallmymight,once,twice,thrice. ThenIthinkImusthavestaggeredtomyfeet. IknowIthoughtsuddenlyofthemoonlitcorridor,andwithmyheadbowedandmyarmsovermyface,madeastumblingrunforthedoor. 

           ButIhadforgottentheexactpositionofthedoor,andIstruckmyselfheavilyagainstthecornerofthebed.