Моби Дик

The Counterpane

           IlaytheredismallycalculatingthatsixteenentirehoursmustelapsebeforeIcouldhopeforaresurrection.Sixteenhoursinbed!thesmallofmybackachedtothinkofit.Anditwassolighttoo;thesunshininginatthewindow,andagreatrattlingofcoachesinthestreets,andthesoundofgayvoicesalloverthehouse.IfeltworseandworseatlastIgotup,dressed,andsoftlygoingdowninmystockingedfeet,soughtoutmystepmother,andsuddenlythrewmyselfatherfeet,beseechingherasaparticularfavortogivemeagoodslipperingformymisbehaviour:anythingindeedbutcondemningmetolieabedsuchanunendurablelengthoftime.Butshewasthebestandmostconscientiousofstepmothers,andbackIhadtogotomyroom.ForseveralhoursIlaytherebroadawake,feelingagreatdealworsethanIhaveeverdonesince,evenfromthegreatestsubsequentmisfortunes.AtlastImusthavefallenintoatroublednightmareofadoze;andslowlywakingfromithalfsteepedindreamsIopenedmyeyes,andthebeforesunlitroomwasnowwrappedinouterdarkness.InstantlyIfeltashockrunningthroughallmyframe;nothingwastobeseen,andnothingwastobeheard;butasupernaturalhandseemedplacedinmine.Myarmhungoverthecounterpane,andthenameless,unimaginable,silentformorphantom,towhichthehandbelonged,seemedcloselyseatedbymybed-side.Forwhatseemedagespiledonages,Ilaythere,frozenwiththemostawfulfears,notdaringtodragawaymyhand;yeteverthinkingthatifIcouldbutstiritonesingleinch,thehorridspellwouldbebroken.Iknewnothowthisconsciousnessatlastglidedawayfromme;butwakinginthemorning,Ishudderinglyremembereditall,andfordaysandweeksandmonthsafterwardsIlostmyselfinconfoundingattemptstoexplainthemystery.Nay,tothisveryhour,Ioftenpuzzlemyselfwithit.

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