Darrin did not grow drowsy.
On the contrary, he became more wide awake.

In fact, he began to imagine that he was becoming possessed of the vision of the cat.

Dark as it was in the room, Dave began to feel certain that he could distinguish plainly the ghostly figure of the saving doughface in the alcove opposite.
Twelve o'clock struck.

Then more waiting.

It was not so very long, this time, however, before there came a faint tapping at the window.
Dave Darrin was out of bed as though he had been shot out.