Every now and then I raised my eyes and saw my father either writing or ruminating, as it seemed to me, very anxiously at his desk.
Time wore on--a longer time than he had intended, and still he continued absorbed at his desk.

Gradually I grew sleepy, and as I nodded, the book and room faded away, and pleasant little dreams began to gather round me, and so I went off into a deep slumber.
It must have lasted long, for when I wakened my candle had burnt out; my father, having quite forgotten me, was gone, and the room was dark and deserted.

I felt cold and a little stiff, and for some seconds did not know where I was.
I had been wakened, I suppose, by a sound which I now distinctly heard, to my great terror, approaching.

There was a rustling; there was a breathing.
I heard a creaking upon the plank that always creaked when walked upon in the passage.

I held my breath and listened, and coiled myself up in the innermost recess of my little chamber.
Sudden and sharp, a light shone in from the nearly-closed study door.