Walter Scott,
The Garden of Romance
(1897)
“ Here General Browne stopped, and wiped from his brow the cold perspiration with which the recollection of his horrible vision had covered it. "My lord," he said, "I am no coward. I have been in all the mortal dangers incidental to my profession, and I may truly boast that no man ever knew Richard Browne dishonour the sword he wears; but in these horrible circumstances, under the eyes and, as it seemed, almost in the grasp of an incarnation of an evil spirit, all firmness forsook me, all manhood melted from me like wax in the furnace, and I felt my hair individually bristle. ”
