be dangerous. The
combination is a dreadful one.

At nine o'clock I visited him myself. His attitude to me was the same
as that to the attendant. In his sublime self-feeling the difference
between myself and the attendant seemed to him as nothing. It looks
like religious mania, and he will soon think that he himself is God.

These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for
an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real
God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall. But the God created from human
vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh, if men
only knew!

For half an hour or more Renfield kept getting excited in greater and
greater degree. I did not pretend to be watching him, but I kept
strict observation all the same. All at once that shifty look came
into his eyes which we always see when a madman has seized an idea, and
with it the shifty movement of the head and back which asylum
attendants come to know so well. He became quite quiet, and went and
sat on the edge of his bed resignedly, and looked into space with
lack-luster eyes.

I thought I would find out if his apathy were real or only assumed, and
tried to lead him to talk of his pets, a theme which had never failed
to excite his attention.

At first he made no reply, but at length said testily, "Bother them
all! I don't care a pin about them."

"What?" I said. "You don't mean to tell me you don't care about
spiders?" (Spiders at present are his hobby and the notebook is filling
up with columns of small figures.)

To this he answered enigmatically, "The Bride maidens rejoice the eyes
that wait the coming of the bride. But when the bride draweth nigh,
then the maidens shine not to the eyes that are filled."

He would not explain himself, but remained obstinately seated on his
bed all the time I remained with him.

I am weary tonight and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, and
how different things might have been. If I don't sleep at once,
chloral, the modern Morpheus! I must be careful not to let it grow
into a habit. No, I shall take none tonight! I have thought of Lucy,
and I shall not dishonour her by mixing the two. If need be, tonight
shall be sleepless.

Later.--Glad I made the resolution, gladder that I kept to it. I had
lain tossing about, and had heard the clock strike only twice, when the
night watchman came to me, sent up from the ward, to say that Ren