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〃Well； nonot good…bye！ Write to me！〃
I went straight to Madame de Gabry's residence。
〃Madame is at Rome with Monsieur。 Did not Monsieur know it？〃
〃Why； yes；〃 I replied。 〃Madame wrote to me。〃。。。
She had indeed written to me in regard to her leaving home； but my
head must have become very much confused； so that I had forgotten all
about it。 The servant seemed to be of the same opinion； for he looked at
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me in a way that seemed to signify； 〃Monsieur Bonnard is doting〃and he
leaned down over the balustrade of the stairway to see if I was not going
to do something extraordinary before I got to the bottom。 But I descended
the stairs rationally enough； and then he drew back his head in
disappointment。
On returning home I was informed that Monsieur Gelis was waiting
for me in the parlour。 （This young man has become a constant visitor。 His
judgement is at fault at times； but his mind is not at all commonplace。） On
this occasion； however； his usually welcome visit only embarrassed me。
〃Alas！〃 I thought to myself； 〃I shall be sure to say something very stupid
to my young friend to…day； and he also will think that my facilities are
becoming impaired。 But still I cannot really explain to him that I had first
been demanded in wedlock； and subsequently traduced as a man wholly
devoid of morals that even Therese had become an object of suspicion
and that Jeanne remains in the power of the most rascally woman on the
face of the earth。 I am certainly in an admirable state of mind for
conversing about Cistercian abbeys with a young and mischievously
minded man。 Nevertheless； we shall seewe shall try。〃。。。
But Therese stopped me：
〃How red you are； Monsieur！〃 she exclaimed； in a tone of reproach。
〃It must be the spring；〃 I answered。
She cried out；
〃The spring！in the month of December？〃
That is a fact！ this is December。 Ah！ what is the matter with my head？
what a fine help I am going to be to poor Jeanne！
〃Therese； take my cane； and put it； if you possibly can； in some place
where I shall be able to find it again。
〃Good…day； Monsieur Gelis。 How are you？〃
Undated。
Next morning the old boy wanted to get up； but the old boy could not
get up。 A merciless invisible hand kept him down upon his bed。 Finding
himself immovably riveted there； the old boy resigned himself to remain
motionless； but his thoughts kept running in all directions。
He must have had a very violent fever； for Mademoiselle Prefere； the
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Abbots of Saint…Germain…des…Pres； and the servant of Madame de Gabry
appeared to him in divers fantastic shapes。 The figure of the servant in
particular lengthened weirdly over his head； grimacing like some gargoyle
of a cathedral。 Then it seemed to me that there were a great many people；
much too many people； in my bedroom。
This bedroom of mine is furnished after the antiquated fashion。 The
portrait of my father in full uniform； and the portrait of my mother in her
cashmere dress； are suspended on the wall。 The wall…paper is covered with
green foliage designs。 I am aware of all this； and I am even conscious that
everything is faded； very much faded。 But an old man's room does not
require to be pretty； it is enough that it should be clean； and Therese sees
to that。 At all events my room is sufficiently decorated to please a mind
like mine； which has always remained somewhat childish and dreamy。
There are things hanging on the wall or scattered over the tables and
shelves which usually please my fancy and amuse me。 But to…day it would
seem as if all those objects had suddenly conceived some kind of ill…will
against me。 They have all become garish； grimacing； menacing。 That
statuette； modelled after one of the Theological Virtues of Notre… Dame de
Brou； always so ingenuously graceful in its natural condition； is now
making contortions and putting out its tongue at me。 And that beautiful
miniaturein which one of the most skilful pupils of Jehan Fouquet
depicted himself； girdled with the cord…girdle of the Sons of St。 Francis；
offering his book； on bended knee； to the good Duc d'Angoulemewho
has taken it out of its frame and put in its place a great ugly cat's head；
which stares at me with phosphorescent eyes。 And the designs on the wall…
paper have also turned into headshideous green heads。。。。 But noI am
sure that wall…paper must have foliage…designs upon it at this moment just
as it had twenty years ago； and nothing else。。。。 But no； againI was right
beforethey are heads； with eyes； noses； mouthsthey are heads！。。。 Ah！
now I understand！ they are both heads and foliage… designs at the same
time。 I wish I could not see them at all。
And there； on my right； the pretty miniature of the Franciscan has
come back again； but it seems to me as if I can only keep it in its frame by
a tremendous effort of will； and that the moment I get tired the ugly cat…
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head will appear in its place。 Certainly I am not delirious； I can see
Therese very plainly； standing at the foot of my bed； I can hear her
speaking to me perfectly well； and I should be able to answer her quite
satisfactorily if I were not kept so busy in trying to compel the various
objects about me to maintain their natural aspect。
Here is the doctor coming。 I never sent for him； but it gives me
pleasure to see him。 He is an old neighbor of mine； I have never been of
much service to him； but I like him very much。 Even if I do not say much
to him； I have at least full possession of all my faculties； and I even find
myself extraordinarily crafty and observant to…day； for I note all his
gestures； his every look； the least wrinkling of his face。 But the doctor is
very cunning； too； and I cannot really tell what he thinks about me。 The
deep thought of Goethe suddenly comes to my mind and I exclaim；
〃Doctor； the old man has consented to allow himself to become sick；
but he does not intend； this time at least； to make any further concessions
to nature。〃
Neither the doctor nor Therese laughs at my little joke。 I suppose they
cannot have understood it。
The doctor goes away； evening comes； and all sorts of strange
shadows begin to shape themselves about my bed…curtains； forming and
dissolving by turns。 And other shadowsghoststhrong by before me； and
through them I can see distinctively the impassive face of my faithful
servant。 And suddenly a cry； a shrill cry； a great cry of distress； rends my
ears。 Was it you who called me Jeanne？
The day is over； and the shadows take their places at my bedside to
remain with me all through the long night。
Then morning comesI feel a peace； a vast peace； wrapping me all
about。
Art Thou about to take me into Thy rest； my dear Lord God？
Feb