ings. He thought he was dead,
and lying on the ever-dark face of the moon, in the centre of a funnel,
formed by the solar rays, which streaked away to the infinite; and at
the dark bottom of this funnel he saw the flaming eyes of the stars.
Little by little be realised he was on an enormous bed which stood in
darkness, but was surrounded by a pale light, so dim that the walls were
hardly visible. Great shadows were moving about him. Opposite him was
a blue, open space, all strewn with specks of light. His heart beat
faster. Were they not, indeed, stars? He was obliged to remind himself
of the feeling of the bed, and that he was alive, in order to convince
himself that they were stars, but that he was not lying on the moon.
Where was he, then? He gave himself up to a sense of sweetness which was
coming over him, the sweetness of hardly feeling his body any longer,
but of feeling God in his soul, so near, so tender, so warm. He was
where God wished him to be.

A hand was laid on his forehead, an electric light dazzled his eyes, and
an affectionate, strong voice said:

"Well, how do you feel?"

He recognised Mayda. Then he asked him where he was, why he was not in
his little old room? Before the Professor could answer, Benedetto was
assailed by a painful doubt. The Crucifix? The dear Crucifix? Had it
been left at the Senator's house? The Crucifix was standing on the table
by his side. The Professor showed it to him.

"Do you not remember," he said, using the affectionate "thou", "that we
brought it with us?"

Benedetto looked at him, pleased at the new word of affection, and
stretched out his hand in search of Mayda's; the Professor took it
tenderly between his own.

At the same time he felt humiliated by his own forgetfulness. Was he
about to lose his reason? All the previous day he had thought about the
words he should speak to his friends, and to the person who had made
her invisible presence so keenly felt. But if he lost his reason?
The Professor began to saturate him with quinine. At first Benedetto
accepted these painful injections and bitter doses willingly, in his
desire to grow a little stronger, and thus to ward off the darkening of
his spirit, and also because he wished to suffer. Oh yes! to suffer, to
suffer! During the preceding days he had suffered greatly, not from
any local pain, not from any acute pain, but his was an inexpressible
suffering, which extended from the roots of his hair to the soles o