irs, and I remained standing
outside my door for more than ten minutes; then suddenly I took courage,
and screwed myself together. I inserted my key into the lock, and went
in with a candle in my hand. I kicked open my half-open bedroom door,
and gave a frightened look towards the fireplace; there was nothing
there. A--h!

What a relief and what a delight! What a deliverance! I walked up and
down briskly and boldly, but I was not altogether reassured, and kept
turning round with a jump; the very shadows in the corner disquieted me.

I slept badly, and was constantly disturbed by imaginary noises, but I
did not see _him_; no, that was all over.

Since that time I have been afraid of being alone at night. I feel that
the specter is there, close to me, around me; but it has not appeared to
me again. And supposing it did, what would it matter, since I do not
believe in it, and know that it is nothing?

It still worries me, however, because I am constantly thinking of it:
_his right arm hanging down and his head inclined to the left like a man
who was asleep_.... Enough of that, in Heaven's name! I don't want to
think about it!

Why, however, am I so persistently possessed with this idea? His feet
were close to the fire!

He haunts me; it is very stupid, but so it is. Who and what is HE? I
know that he does not exist except in my cowardly imagination, in my
fears, and in my agony! There--enough of that!...

Yes, it is all very well for me to reason with myself, _to stiffen
myself_, so to say; but I cannot remain at home, because I know he is
there. I know I shall not see him again; he will not show himself again;
that is all over. But he is there all the same in my thoughts. He
remains invisible, but that does not prevent his being there. He is
behind the doors, in the closed cupboards, in the wardrobe, under the
bed, in every dark corner. If I open the door or the cupboard, if I take
the candle to look under the bed and throw a light on to the dark
places, he is there no longer, but I feel that he is behind me. I turn
round, certain that I shall not see him, that I shall never see him
again; but he is, for all that, none the less behind me.

It is very stupid, it is dreadful; but what am I to do? I cannot help
it.

But if there were two of us in the place, I feel certain that he would
not be there any longer, for he is there just because I am alone; simply
and solely because I am alone!

A PHILOSOPHER