Was it the coffee?
Twice in the night I lighted my candle, looked at the little French clock on the mantel, and under the bed.

At last I fell asleep, but starting violently from its oblivious dark, to become aware that the darkness of the room was sentient.

A breath passed over my face; but I caught no sound, though I held my breath to listen for one.

I moved my hands before me then, but they came in contact with nothing.

My forebodings passed away, and I slept till Alice sent for me.