At last we had reached the count's chamber.
The howling came from behind his door.
We stole fearful glances at one another without attempting to account for
the hideous noise, or explaining the presence of such a wild guest in the
house. Indeed, we had no time; our ideas were in dire and utter
confusion.
Sperver hastily pushed the door open, and, knife in hand, was darting
into the room; but he stood arrested on the threshold motionless as a
stone.
Never have I seen such a picture of horror as he displayed standing
rooted there, with his eyes starting from his head, and his mouth wide
open and gasping for breath.
I gazed over his shoulder, and the sight that met my eyes made the blood
run chill as snow in my veins.
The lord of Nideck, crouching on all fours upon his bed, with his arms
bending forward, his head carried low, his eyes glaring with fierce
fires, was uttering loud, protracted howlings!
He was the wolf!
That low receding forehead, that sharp-pointed face, that foxy-looking
beard, bristling off both cheeks; the long meagre figure, the sinewy
limbs, the face, the cry. The attitude, declared the presence of the wild
beast half-hidden, half-revealed under a human mask!
At times he would stop for a second and listen attentively with head
awry, and then the crimson hangings would tremble with the quivering of
his limbs, like foliage shaken by the wind; then the melancholy wail
would open afresh.
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