I felt an inward content and satisfaction, was
more happy than if I had been in the arms of a desirable female, whose
wonted caresses had become a soothing and delightful necessity.

I had had this house constructed in the center of a beautiful garden,
which hid it from the public highways, and which was near the entrance to
a city where I could find, on occasion, the resources of society, for
which, at moments, I had a longing. All my domestics slept in a separate
building which was situated at some considerable distance from my house,
at the far end of the kitchen garden, which was surrounded by a high
wall. The obscure envelopment of the nights, in the silence of my
invisible and concealed habitation, buried under the leaves of the great
trees, were so reposeful and so delicious, that I hesitated every
evening, for several hours, before I could retire to my couch, in order
to enjoy the solitude a little longer.

One day _Signad_ had been played at one of the city theaters. It was the
first time that I had listened to that beautiful, musical, and fairy-like
drama, and I had derived from it the liveliest pleasures.

I returned home on foot, with a light step, my head full of sonorous
phrases, and my mind haunted by delightful visions. It was night, the
dead of night, and so dark that I could hardly distinguish the broad
highway, and whence I stumbled into the ditch more than once. From the
custom's-house, at the barriers to my house, was about a mile, perhaps a
little more, or a leisurely walk of about twenty minutes. It was one
o'clock in the morning, one o'clock or maybe half-past one; the sky had
by this time cleared somewhat and the crescent appeared, the gloomy
crescent of the last quarter of the moon. The crescent of the first
quarter is, that which rises about five or six o'clock in the evening;
is clear, gay and fretted with silver; but the one which rises after
midnight is reddish, sad and desolating; it is the true Sabbath crescent.
Every prowler by night has made the same observation. The first, though
as slender as a thread, throws a faint joyous light which rejoices the
heart and lines the ground with distinct shadows; the last, sheds hardly
a dying glimmer, and is so wan that it occasions hardly any shadows.

In the distance, I perceived the somber mass of my garden, and I know
not why I was seized with a feeling of uneasiness at the idea of going
inside. I slowed my pace, and walked very softly, the t