e worn out
to-morrow at my office. I ought to have gone to sleep at once, when I
got into bed, instead of thinking of a lot of things. That is what gave
me insomnia. I must get to sleep at once."

Again he blew out the light. He buried his head in the pillow, feeling
slightly refreshed, and thoroughly determined not to think any more, and
to be no more afraid. Fatigue began to relax his nerves.

He did not fall into his usual heavy, crushing sleep, but glided lightly
into unsettled slumber. He simply felt as if benumbed, as if plunged
into gentle and delightful stupor. As he dozed, he could feel his limbs.
His intelligence remained awake in his deadened frame. He had driven
away his thoughts, he had resisted the vigil. Then, when he became
appeased, when his strength failed and his will escaped him, his
thoughts returned quietly, one by one, regaining possession of his
faltering being.

His reverie began once more. Again he went over the distance separating
him from Therese: he went downstairs, he passed before the cellar at a
run, and found himself outside the house; he took all the streets he had
followed before, when he was dreaming with his eyes open; he entered the
Arcade of the Pont Neuf, ascended the little staircase and scratched at
the door. But instead of Therese, it was Camille who opened the door,
Camille, just as he had seen him at the Morgue, looking greenish, and
atrociously disfigured. The corpse extended his arms to him, with a vile
laugh, displaying the tip of a blackish tongue between its white teeth.

Laurent shrieked, and awoke with a start. He was bathed in perspiration.
He pulled the bedclothes over his eyes, swearing and getting into a rage
with himself. He wanted to go to sleep again. And he did so as before,
slowly.

The same feeling of heaviness overcame him, and as soon as his will had
again escaped in the languidness of semi-slumber, he set out again. He
returned where his fixed idea conducted him; he ran to see Therese, and
once more it was the drowned man who opened the door.

The wretch sat up terrified. He would have given anything in the world
to be able to drive away this implacable dream. He longed for heavy
sleep to crush his thoughts. So long as he remained awake, he had
sufficient energy to expel the phantom of his victim; but as soon as he
lost command of his mind it led him to the acme of terror.

He again attempted to sleep. Then came a succession of delicious
spells of