"
At half-past eight o'clock, Esther complained of feeling feverish and
was advised by Olive and Jane to go to bed, which she did.
About ten o'clock Jane retired for the night. After she had been in bed
some fifteen minutes, Esther jumped with a sudden bound into the centre
of the room, taking all the bed clothes with her.
"My God!" she exclaimed, "what can be the matter with me! Wake up Jane,
wake up! I'm dying, I'm dying!" "Dying!" responded Jane; "why dying
people don't speak in that loud tone. Wait until I light the lamp, don't
die in the dark Esther."
Jane thought her sister only had the night mare, but when she lit the
lamp, she was considerably alarmed by her sister's appearance. There
stood Esther in the centre of the room, her short hair almost standing
on end, her face as red as blood, and her eyes really looked as if they
were about to start from their sockets, her hands were grasping the back
of a chair so tightly that her nails sank into the soft wood. She was
truly an object to look on with amazement, as she stood there in her
white night gown trembling with fear. Her sister called as loudly as she
could for assistance; for Jane, too, was pretty well frightened by this
time, and did not know what to do.
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