The Vampyre and Other Tales of the Macabre How shall I tell the heart-cutting anguish of that moment, as my mind looked forward to a futurity too dreadful to think upon when memory should call up many a sunny hour of existence, the loss of friends, the triumph of exertion, and then fall back upon the dread consciousness of the ever busied life the grave closed over-” Then I thought it might be what is termed a trance, but that poor hope deserted me, as I brought to mind the words of the doctor, who knew too well all the unerring signs of death to be deceived by its counterfeit, and my heart sank as they lifted me into the coffin, and I felt that my limbs had stiffened, and I knew this never took place in a trance. Oh! how horrible, how more than horrible! the terror of that thought. Was this then death? Could it be, that though coldness wrapt the suffering clay, passion and sense should still survive-and that while every external trace of life had fled, consciousness should still cling to the cold corpse destined for the earth.
“I now knew that I had died, and for my interment were intended the awful preparations about me.
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