“I now walked homeward.  I had only a few hundred yards to go.  I had forced myself into a sort of resignation, but I had not got over the sickening shock and the flurry of the first certainty of my misfortune.

“I made up my mind to pass the night at home.  The brute moved close beside me, and I fancied there was the sort of anxious drawing toward the house, which one sees in tired horses or dogs, sometimes as they come toward home.

“I was afraid to go into town, I was afraid of any one’s seeing and recognizing me.  I was conscious of an irrepressible agitation in my manner.  Also, I was afraid of any violent change in my habits, such as going to a place of amusement, or walking from home in order to fatigue myself.  At the hall door it waited till I mounted the steps, and when the door was opened entered with me.

“I drank no tea that night.  I got cigars and some brandy and water.  My idea was that I should act upon my material system, and by living for a while in sensation apart from thought, send myself forcibly, as it were, into a new groove.  I came up here to this drawing-room.  I sat just here.  The monkey then got upon a small table that then stood there.  It looked dazed and languid.  An irrepressible uneasiness as to its movements kept my eyes always upon it.  Its eyes were half closed, but I could see them glow.  It was looking steadily at me.  In all situations, at all hours, it is awake and looking at me.  That never changes.

“I shall not continue in detail my narrative of this particular night.  I shall describe, rather, the phenomena of the first year, which never varied, essentially.  I shall describe the monkey as it appeared in daylight.  In the dark, as you shall presently hear, there are peculiarities.  It is a small monkey, perfectly black.  It had only one peculiarity—­a character of malignity—­unfathomable malignity.  During the first year it looked sullen and sick.  But this character of intense malice and vigilance was always underlying that surly languor.  During all that time it acted as if on a plan of giving me as little trouble as was consistent with watching me.  Its eyes were never off me.  I have never lost sight of it, except in my sleep, light or dark, day or night, since it came here, excepting when it withdraws for some weeks at a time, unaccountably.

“In total dark it is visible as in daylight.  I do not mean merely its eyes.  It is all visible distinctly in a halo that resembles a glow of red embers, and which accompanies it in all its movements.

“When it leaves me for a time, it is always at night, in the dark, and in the same way.  It grows at first uneasy, and then furious, and then advances towards me, grinning and shaking, its paws clenched, and, at the same time, there comes the appearance of fire in the grate.  I never have any fire.  I can’t sleep in the room where there is any, and it draws nearer and nearer to the chimney, quivering, it seems, with rage, and when its fury rises to the highest pitch, it springs into the grate, and up the chimney, and I see it no more.