killed when I should return; but chiefly of
thee, Eugénie, (of whom I knew myself
unworthy,) lily-handed, lovelier than the loveliest
of all flowers!

I dropped asleep, and awoke several times,
always dreaming and waking up with the
feeling, that my strange vision was a portion
of my dream; but the burning embers in my
stove recalled to me what had passed, and
each time, putting on more fuel, I dropped
asleep again.

I do not know how long I had been sleeping
the last time. When I awakened, my fire was
out, and I was in darkness. I knew, however,
that it was past midnight, the hour at
which my ghostly visitor would probably
have returned, if he had had an intention of
returning. My slumbers had tranquillised
me. Looking out of the window, it did strike
me that a certain dark object, close upon the
next roof, had somewhat the look of a monk,
staring out of his cowl at me through my
window; but I speedily recognised it for a
portion of the daguerreotyper's apparatus
for fixing his customers in the required position.
The fog had cleared away. There were
no lights on any of the roofs, or at any windows
far and wide. In the distance rose the dusky
towers of St. Sulpice; and the stars were
shining.

I had determined to go to bed, and think
no more of my apparition until the morning,
when turning to light my lamp, my eye caught
again a faint light through the key-hole of
the adjoining room. This was stranger still;
for I knew that no one, in the habit of shutting
doors so noisily, could have passed through
my room while I had been sleeping. I lighted
my lamp and listened. I heard again a
light footstep, and presently a voice as of
some one talking to himself, though loud
enough, sometimes, for me to distinguish his
words:

"A good wind getting up, such a wind as
blows sharp dust into the face on a frosty
night. Whew! I wouldn't turn a dog out.
This is cheerless; but better than that hot
cursed place, full of shrieking, whining men
and women. How the dusky Satan took that
girl, and turned her till her brain was giddy,
and she swooned! She had a pretty simple
look; but she would not have been there if
she were as innocent as her face. They knew
me. The priest taunted me with my free use
of the guillotine. No matter. That peasant
girl did not shrink from the monster, nor
look upon my hands to see if they were blood-stained,
when we joined the others in their
devilry. Oh, it was a pretty sight for them
to see a man with some thousands of murders
on his mind, looking so merry, and handling
a nosegay so delicately- a nosegay that they
knew so well in all my portraits! Well, well!
enough of this for to-night. My feet can
scarcely forget their habit. The fascination
of that whirling multitude haunts me. I
seem to have her still- my peasant girl.
Steadily! Hold me firmly. Now then!
Away!"

My mysterious neighbour seemed to be
turning rapidly about the room. I heard the
quick movement of his feet; and then a noise,
as if a heavy body had come violently in contact
with the wainscot. I walked on tiptoe
to the door, and looked through the keyhole,
but my sight only ranged over a small portion
of the room, and I could see no one. There
was a silence for some moments. Then I heard
him talking- again:

"This kind of sport does not suit the
middle of the night. I shall wake the whole
floor. Let me see; how am I to amuse
myself? No rest for me to-night. At day-light
I must begone."

I heard again a noise, as if he had flung
himself heavily into a chair; and then there
was a long silence again. I sat listening for
any sound, and wondering at the strange
words that I had heard; but, when the
church-clocks had twice chimed the quarters,
the room was still quiet. Looking at the key-hole,
the light was gone; but, on observing
again, I thought I saw a faint glimmer, as if
the candle were still burning, with the shade
down. After a while, however, I resolved to
retire to bed; taking first the precaution to
place a chair against the door, in such a
manner that it would fall and awaken me, if
he attempted again to enter my room; besides
which, I placed my sword-stick within reach.
I tried to persuade myself that this was some
trick of my fellow-students to alarm me, or
that my neighbour was a harmless madman,
personating the great republican; although I
felt uneasy at remembering that he was in
possession of the key of the door opening into
my room. Resolved, however, at any rate, to
shake off my alarm, I strove to rally myself
upon the subject. "If M. Robespierre," said
I, aloud, "takes a fancy to walk through
my room again, he will be kind enough to shut
the doors with less noise, if I am sleeping."

Instantly, I heard the footstep again; the
handle of the lock turned; the chair, with
some articles that I had designedly placed
upon it, fell with a loud clatter; the door
opened wide; and the same figure that I had
seen before stood in the doorway.

"Keep off!" I exclaimed, seizing my
sword-stick, and planting myself, like Roderick
Dhu, with my back to the wall.

"I beg your pardon!" said my disturber,
with a low bow.

"Who are you? What do you do here?"
I demanded, waxing bolder.

"M. Hector Favart- at your service; student
of the Ecole de Médécine; having the
honour to do duty in the Third Legion of the
Garde Nationalé- an honour that will take
me out of doors at daylight this frosty
morning."

"What!" said I, letting my sword-stick
fall from my hand- "the cousin of my
Eugénie?"