Not alone! I had a companion in the darkness, one who was nearly as
much stunned as I, for he moved no more, but lay holding on by my left
hand, and for a time I was content to listen to the savage roar of the
wind. But at last, as my brain worked and I mastered the sensation of
horror, I began to feel about again with my right hand, till I touched
the same cold, wet object I had encountered before.
It was an arm, quite bare and cold; while now I could not withdraw my
hand, but lay trembling and shuddering, till I felt that perhaps I was
not right--that any one lying dead would not feel like that; and my hand
glided down to the wrist.
I knew nothing about feeling pulses only from having seen a doctor do
so, but by chance my fingers fell naturally in the right place in the
hollow just above the wrist joint, and a thrill of exultation ran
through me, for I could distinctly feel a tremulous beating, and I knew
that my imagination had played me false--that the man was not dead.