my arm hung over the counterpane, and the nameless, unimaginable, silent form or phantom, to which the hand belonged, seemed closely seated by my bed-side. for what seemed ages piled on ages, i lay there, frozen with the most awful fears, not daring to drag away my hand; yet ever thinking that if i could but stir it one single inch, the horrid spell would be broken. i knew not how this consciousness at last glided away from me; but waking in the morning, i shudderingly remembered it all, and for days and weeks and months afterwards i lost myself in confounding attempts to explain the mystery. nay, to this very hour, i often puzzle myself with it.