“She burst out laughing. How truly ridiculous.
“Catching her breath and casting fearful looks of apprehension on all sides, she advanced towards the stairs and ‘tiptoeing’ stealthily across the hall, tried in vain to keep her eyes from the clock. But its sonorous ticking brought her to a peremptory halt.
“She stood and listened. Tick! tick! tick! It was so unlike any other ticking she had ever heard, it appalled her.
“The clock, too, seemed to have become blacker and even more gigantic.
“It reared itself above her like a monstrous coffin.
“She was now too terrified to think of escape, and could only clutch hold of the bannisters in momentary terror of some fresh phenomenon.
“In this helpless condition she watched the clock slowly increase in stature till its grotesquely carved summit all but swept the ceiling, whilst a pair of huge, toeless, grey feet protruded from beneath its base.
“Nor were these the only changes, for during their accomplishment others of an equally alarming nature had taken place, and the ticking, after having passed through many transitional stages, was now replaced by a spasmodic breathing, forcibly suggestive of something devilish and bestial.
“At this juncture words cannot convey any idea of what Christina suffered; nor had she seen the worst.
“Midnight at length came. In dumb agony she watched the minute-hand slowly make its last circuit; there were twelve frantic clangs, the door concealing the pendulum flew open, and an enormous hand, ashy grey, with long, mal-shaped fingers, made a convulsive grab at her.[1] Swinging to one side, she narrowly avoided capture and, glancing upwards, saw something so diabolically awful that her heart turned to ice.