Then I double-locked my door, and felt rather reassured; now, at any
rate, nobody could come in.
I sat down again, and thought over my adventure for a long time; then I
went to bed, and blew out my light.
For some minutes all went well; I lay quietly on my back, but then an
irresistible desire seized me to look round the room, and I turned on to
my side.
My fire was nearly out, and the few glowing embers threw a faint light
on to the floor by the chair, where I fancied I saw the man sitting
again.
I quickly struck a match, but I had been mistaken, for there was nothing
there; I got up, however, and hid the chair behind my bed, and tried to
get to sleep as the room was now dark, but I had not forgotten myself
for more than five minutes when in my dream I saw all the scene which I
had witnessed as clearly as if it were reality. I woke up with a start,
and having lit the candle, I sat up in bed, without venturing even to
try and go to sleep again.
Twice, however, sleep overcame me for a few moments in spite of myself,
and twice I saw the same thing again, till I fancied I was going mad;
when day broke, however, I thought that I was cured, and slept
peacefully till noon.
It was all past and over. I had been feverish, had had the nightmare; I
don't know what. I had been ill, in a word, but yet I thought that I was
a great fool.
I enjoyed myself thoroughly that evening; I went and dined at a
restaurant; afterwards I went to the theater, and then started home. But
as I got near the house I was seized by a strange feeling of uneasiness
once more; I was afraid of _seeing_ him again. I was not afraid of him,
not afraid of his presence, in which I did not believe; but I was afraid
of being deceived again; I was afraid of some fresh hallucination,
afraid lest fear should take possession of me.
Far more than an hour I wandered up and down the pavement; then I
thought that I was really too foolish, and at last I returned home. I
panted so that I could scarcely get upstairs, 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!