Charles Brockden Brown

I had not been terrified by empty menaces. Violation and death awaited my entrance into this chamber. Some inscrutable chance had led her hither before me, and the merciless fangs of which I was designed to be the prey, had mistaken their victim, and had fixed themselves in her heart. But where was my safety? Was the mischief exhausted or flown? The steps of the assassin had just been here; they could not be far off; in a moment he would rush into my presence, and I should perish under the same polluting and suffocating grasp!
My frame shook, and my knees were unable to support me. I gazed alternately at the closet door and at the door of my room. At one of these avenues would enter the exterminator of my honor and my life.