At times I am seized with fatigue owing to their absurd mode of life.  I have not the proper rest even at night.

The consciousness that while going to bed I may absent-mindedly have forgotten to lock my bedroom door compels me to jump from my bed dozens of times and to feel the lock with a quiver of horror.

Not long ago it happened that I locked my door and hid the key under my pillow, perfectly confident that my room was locked, when suddenly I heard a knock, then the door opened, and my servant entered with a smile on his face.  You, dear reader, will easily understand the horror I experienced at this unexpected visit—­it seemed to me that some one had entered my soul.  And though I have absolutely nothing to conceal, this breaking into my room seems to me indecent, to say the least.

I caught a cold a few days ago—­there is a terrible draught in their windows—­and I asked my servant to watch me at night.  In the morning I asked him, in jest: 

“Well, did I talk much in my sleep?”

“No, you didn’t talk at all.”

“I had a terrible dream, and I remember I even cried.”

“No, you smiled all the time, and I thought—­what fine dreams our Master must see!”

The dear youth must have been sincerely devoted to me, and I am deeply moved by such devotion during these painful days.

To-morrow I shall sit down to prepare my lectures.  It is high time!

CHAPTER X

My God!  What has happened to me?  I do not know how I shall tell my reader about it.  I was on the brink of the abyss, I almost perished.  What cruel temptations fate is sending me!  Fools, we smile, without suspecting anything, when some murderous hand is already lifted to attack us; we smile, and the very next instant we open our eyes wide with horror.  I—­I cried.  I cried.  Another moment and deceived, I would have hurled myself down, thinking that I was flying toward the sky.

It turned out that “the charming stranger” who wore a dark veil, and who came to me so mysteriously three times, was no one else than Mme. N., my former fiancee, my love, my dream and my suffering.

But order! order!  May my indulgent reader forgive the involuntary incoherence of the preceding lines, but I am sixty years old, and my strength is beginning to fail me, and I am alone.  My unknown reader, be my friend at this moment, for I am not of iron, and my strength is beginning to fail me.  Listen, my friend; I shall endeavour to tell you exactly and in detail, as objectively as my cold and clear mind will be able to do it, all that has happened.  You must understand that which my tongue may omit.

I was sitting, engaged upon the preparation of my lecture, seriously carried away by the absorbing work, when my servant announced that the strange lady in the black veil was there again, and that she wished to see me.  I confess I was irritated, that I was ready to decline to see her, but my curiosity, coupled with my desire not to offend her, led me to receive the unexpected guest.  Assuming the expression of majestic nobleness with which I usually greet my visitors, and softening that expression somewhat by a smile in view of the romantic character of the affair, I ordered my servant to open the door.