"Keep quiet," he muttered, "and don't open the door!"
"Why not?" I asked.
"They will kill me," he answered simply.
I resumed my seat on the side of the bed. My sensations were a little
confused. Under ordinary circumstances, I should probably have been
angry. It was impossible, however, to persevere in such a sentiment
towards the abject creature who cowered by my side.
Yet, after all, was he abject? I looked away from the door, and, for the
second time, studied carefully the features of the man who had sought my
protection in so extraordinary a manner. He was clean shaven, his
features were good; his face, under ordinary circumstances, might have
been described as almost prepossessing. Just now it was whitened and
distorted by fear to such an extent that it gave to his expression a
perfectly repulsive cast. It was as though he looked beyond death and saw
things, however dimly, more terrible than human understanding can fitly
grapple with. There were subtleties of horror in his glassy eyes, in his
drawn and haggard features.
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