t to all sweet emotions. It seemed to me that an airy
sylph, touched with a sense of my solitude, had come to visit me, and
this idea melted me almost to tears.

"Be tranquil, sweet captive, be tranquil," said I; "your confidence
shall not be abused. I will not keep you against your will. Return to
heaven and to liberty." I then opened my little window. The night was
calm, and millions of stars were glittering in the sky. For a moment I
contemplated this sublime spectacle, and words of prayer and praise
came naturally to my lips; but, judge of my amazement, when, lowering
my eyes, I saw a man hanging from the crossbeam of the sign of the
Boeuf-Gras, the hair disheveled, the arms stiff, the legs elongated to
a point, and casting their gigantic shadows down to the street!

The immobility of this figure under the moon's rays was terrible. I
felt my tongue freezing, my teeth clinched. I was about to cry out in
terror when, by some incomprehensible mysterious attraction, my glance
fell below, and I distinguished, confusedly, the old woman crouched at
her window in the midst of dark shadows, and contemplating the dead man
with an air of diabolic satisfaction.

Then I had a vertigo of terror. All my strength abandoned me, and,
retreating to the wall of my loft, I sank down and became insensible.

I do not know how long this sleep of death continued. When restored to
consciousness, I saw that it was broad day. The mists of the night had
penetrated to my garret, and deposited their fresh dew upon my hair,
and the confused murmurs of the street ascended to my little lodging. I
looked without. The burgomaster and his secretary were stationed at the
door of the inn, and remained there a long time; crowds of people came
and went, and paused to look in; then recommenced their course. The
good women of the neighborhood, who were sweeping before their doors,
looked on from afar, and talked gravely with each other.

At last a litter, and upon this litter a body, covered with a linen
cloth, issued from the inn, carried by two men. They descended to the
street, and the children, on their way to school, ran behind them.

All the people drew back as they advanced.

The window opposite was still open; the end of a rope floated from the
crossbeam.

I had not dreamed. I had, indeed, seen the butterfly of the night; I
had seen the man hanging, and I had seen Fledermausse.

That day Toubac made me a visit, and, as his great nose appeare