original short stories-3-第10部分

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flesh；　on　his　lips；　even　to　the　very　tips　of　his　murderous　fingers　a　kind
of　bestial　love；　as　well　as　a　feeling　of　terrified　horror；　toward　this
little　girl　surprised　by　him　and　basely　killed。　　Every　moment　his
thoughts　returned　to　that　horrible　scene；　and；　though　he　endeavored　to
drive　this　picture　from　his　mind；　though　he　put　it　aside　with　terror；
with　disgust；　he　felt　it　surging　through　his　soul；　moving　about　in　him；
waiting　incessantly　for　the　moment　to　reappear。

Then；　as　evening　approached；　he　was　afraid　of　the　shadow　falling　around
him。　　He　did　not　yet　know　why　the　darkness　seemed　frightful　to　him；　but
he　instinctively　feared　it；　he　felt　that　it　was　peopled　with　terrors。
The　bright　daylight　did　not　lend　itself　to　fears。　　Things　and　beings　were
visible　then；　and　only　natural　things　and　beings　could　exhibit　themselves
in　the　light　of　day。　　But　the　night；　the　impenetrable　night；　thicker　than
walls　and　empty；　the　infinite　night；　so　black；　so　vast；　in　which　one
might　brush　against　frightful　things；　the　night；　when　one　feels　that　a
mysterious　terror　is　wandering；　prowling　about；　appeared　to　him　to
conceal　an　unknown　threatening　danger；　close　beside　him。

What　was　it？

He　knew　ere　long。　　As　he　sat　in　his　armchair；　rather　late　one　evening
when　he　could　not　sleep；　he　thought　he　saw　the　curtain　of　his　window
move。　　He　waited；　uneasily；　with　beating　heart。　　The　drapery　did　not
stir；　then；　all　of　a　sudden；　it　moved　once　more。　　He　did　not　venture　to
rise；　he　no　longer　ventured　to　breathe；　and　yet　he　was　brave。　　He　had
often　fought；　and　he　would　have　liked　to　catch　thieves　in　his　house。

Was　it　true　that　this　curtain　did　move？　　he　asked　himself；　fearing　that
his　eyes　had　deceived　him。　　It　was；　moreover；　such　a　slight　thing；　a
gentle　flutter　of　drapery；　a　kind　of　trembling　in　its　folds；　less　than　an
undulation　caused　by　the　wind。

Renardet　sat　still；　with　staring　eyes　and　outstretched　neck。　　He　sprang
to　his　feet　abruptly；　ashamed　of　his　fear；　took　four　steps；　seized　the
drapery　with　both　hands　and　pulled　it　wide　apart。　　At　first　he　saw
nothing　but　darkened　glass；　resembling　plates　of　glittering　ink。　　The
night；　the　vast；　impenetrable　night；　stretched　beyond　as　far　as　the
invisible　horizon。　　He　remained　standing　in　front　of　this　illimitable
shadow；　and　suddenly　he　perceived　a　light；　a　moving　light；　which　seemed
some　distance　away。

Then　he　put　his　face　close　to　the　window　pane；　thinking　that　a　person
looking　for　crabs　might　be　poaching　in　the　Brindille；　for　it　was　past
midnight；　and　this　light　rose　up　at　the　edge　of　the　stream；　under　the
trees。　　As　he　was　not　yet　able　to　see　clearly；　Renardet　placed　his　hands
over　his　eyes；　and　suddenly　this　light　became　an　illumination；　and　he
beheld　little　Louise　Roque　naked　and　bleeding　on　the　moss。　　He　recoiled；
frozen　with　horror；　knocked　over　his　chair　and　fell　over　on　his　back。　　He
remained　there　some　minutes　in　anguish　of　mind；　then　he　sat　up　and　began
to　reflect。　　He　had　had　a　hallucinationthat　was　all；　a　hallucination
due　to　the　fact　that　a　night　marauder　was　walking　with　a　lantern　in　his
hand　near　the　water's　edge。　　What　was　there　astonishing；　besides；　in　the
circumstance　that　the　recollection　of　his　crime　should　sometimes　bring
before　him　the　vision　of　the　dead　girl？

He　rose　from　the　ground；　swallowed　a　glass　of　wine　and　sat　down　again。
He　was　thinking：

〃What　am　I　to　do　if　this　occurs　again？〃

And　it　would　occur；　he　felt　it；　he　was　sure　of　it。　　Already　his　glance
was　drawn　toward　the　window；　it　called　him；　it　attracted　him。　　In　order
to　avoid　looking　at　it；　he　turned　his　chair　round。　　Then　he　took　a　book
and　tried　to　read；　but　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　presently　heard　something
stirring　behind　him；　and　he　swung　round　his　armchair　on　one　foot。

The　curtain　was　moving　again；　unquestionably；　it　moved　this　time。　　He
could　no　longer　have　any　doubt　about　it。

He　rushed　forward　and　grasped　it　so　violently　that　he　pulled　it　down　with
its　pole。　　Then　he　eagerly　glued　his　face　to　the　glass。　　He　saw　nothing。
All　was　black　outside；　and　he　breathed　with　the　joy　of　a　man　whose　life
has　just　been　saved。

Then　he　went　back　to　his　chair　and　sat　down　again；　but　almost　immediately
he　felt　a　longing　to　look　out　once　more　through　the　window。　　Since　the
curtain　had　fallen　down；　the　window　made　a　sort　of　gap；　fascinating　and
terrible；　on　the　dark　landscape。　　In　order　not　to　yield　to　this　dangerous
temptation；　he　undressed；　blew　out　the　light　and　closed　his　eyes。

Lying　on　his　back　motionless；　his　skin　warm　and　moist；　he　awaited　sleep。
Suddenly　a　great　gleam　of　light　flashed　across　his　eyelids。　　He　opened
them；　believing　that　his　dwelling　was　on　fire。　　All　was　black　as　before；
and　he　leaned　on　his　elbow　to　try　to　distinguish　the　window　which　had
still　for　him　an　unconquerable　attraction。　　By　dint　of；　straining　his
eyes　he　could　perceive　some　stars；　and　he　rose；　groped　his　way　across　the
room；　discovered　the　panes　with　his　outstretched　hands；　and　placed　his
forehead　close　to　them。　　There　below；　under　the　trees；　lay　the　body　of
the　little　girl　gleaming　like　phosphorus；　lighting　up　the　surrounding
darkness。

Renardet　uttered　a　cry　and　rushed　toward　his　bed；　where　he　lay　till
morning；　his　head　hidden　under　the　pillow。

From　that　moment　his　life　became　intolerable。　　He　passed　his　days　in
apprehension　of　each　succeeding　night；　and　each　night　the　vision　came
back　again。　　As　soon　as　he　had　locked　himself　up　in　his　room　he　strove　to
resist　it；　but　in　vain。　　An　irresistible　force　lifted　him　up　and　pushed
him　against　the　window；　as　if　to　call　the　phantom；　and　he　saw　it　at　once；
lying　first　in　the　spot　where　the　crime　was　committed　in　the　position　in
which　it　had　been　found。

Then　the　dead　girl　rose　up　and　came　toward　him　with　little　steps　just　as
the　child　had　done　when　she　came　out　of　the　river。　　She　advanced　quietly；
passing　straight　across　the　grass　and　over　the　bed　of　withered　flowers。
Then　she　rose　up　in　the　air　toward　Renardet's　window。　　She　came　toward
him　as　she　had　come　on　the　day　of　the　crime。　　And　the　man　recoiled　before
the　apparitionhe　retreated　to　his　bed　and　sank　down　upon　it；　knowing
well　that　the　little　one　had　entered　the　room　and　that　she　now　was
standing　behind　the　curtain；　which　presently　moved。　　And　until　daybreak
he　kept　staring　at　this　curtain　with　a　fixed　glance；　ever　waiting　to　see
his　victim　depart。

But　she　did　not　show　herself　any　more；　she　remained　there　behind　the
curtain；　which　quivered　tremulously　now　and　then。

And　Renardet；　his　fingers　clutching　the　clothes；　squeezed　them　as　he　had
squeezed　the　throat　of　little　Louise　Roque。

He　heard　the　clock　striking　the　hours；　and　in　the　stillness　the　pendulum
kept　ticking　in　time　with　the　loud　beating　of　his　heart。　　And　he
suffered；　the　wretched　man；　more　than　any　man　had　ever　suffered　before。

Then；　as　soon　as　a　white　streak　of　light　on　the　ceiling　announced　the
approaching　day；　he　felt　himself　free；　alone　at　last；　alone　in　his　room；
and　he　went　to　sleep。　　He　slept　several　hoursa　restless；　feverish　sleep
in　which　he　retraced　in　dreams　the　horrible　vision　of　the　past　night。

When　he　went　down　to　the　late　breakfast　he　felt　exhausted　as　after
unusual　exertion；　and　he　scarcely　ate　anything；　still　haunted　as　he　was
by　the　fear　of　what　he　had　seen　the　night　before。

He　knew　well；　however；　that　it　was　not　an　apparition；　that　the　dead　do
not　come　back；　and　that　his　sick　soul；　his　soul　possessed　by　one　thought
alone；　by　an　indelible　remembrance；　was　the　only　cause　of　his　torture；
was　what　brought　the　dead　girl　back　to　life　and　raised　her　form　before
his　eyes；　on　which　it　was　ineffaceably　imprinted。　　But　he　knew；　too；　that
there　was　no　cure；　that　he　would　never　escape　from　the　savage　persecution
of　his　memory；　and　he　resolved　to　die　rather　than　to　endure　these
tortures　any　longer。

Then　he　thought　of　how　he　would　kill　himself；　It　must　be　something　simple
and　natural；　which　would　preclude　the　idea　of　suicide。　　For　he　clung　to
his　reputation；　to　the　name　bequeathed　to　him　by　his　ancestors；　and　if
his　death　awakened　any　suspicion　people's　thoughts　might　be；　perhaps；
directed　toward　the　mysterious　crime；　toward　the　murderer　who　could　not
be　found；　and　they　would　not　hesitate　to　accuse　him　of　the　crime。

A　strange　idea　came　into　his　head；　that　of　allowing　himself　to　be　crushed
by　the　tree　at　the　foot　of　which　he　had　assassinated　little　Louise　Roque。
So　he　determined　to　have　the　wood　cut　down　and　to　simulate　an　accident。
But　the　beech　tree　refused　to　crush　his　ribs。

Returning　to　his　house；　a　prey　to　utter　despair；　he　had　snatched　up　his
revolver；　and　then　did　not　dare　to　fire　it。

The　dinner　bell　summoned　him。　　He　could　eat　nothing；　and　he　went　upstairs
again。　　And　he　did　not　know　what　to　do。　　Now　that　he　had　escaped　the
first　time；　he　felt　himself　a　coward。　　Presently　he　would　be　ready；
brave；　decided；　master　of　his　courage　and　of　his　resolution；　now　he　was
weak　and　feared　death　as　much　as　he　did　the　dead　girl。

He　faltered：

〃I　dare　not　venture　it　againI　dare　not　venture　it。〃

Then　he　glanced　with　terror；　first　at　the　revolver　on　the　table　and　next
at　the　curtain　which　hid　his　window。　　It　seemed　to　him；　moreover；　that
something　horrible　would　occur　as　soon　as　his　life　was　ended。　　Something？
What？　　A　meeting　with　her；　perhaps。　　She　was　watching　for　him；　she　was
waiting　for　him；　she　was　calling　him；　and　it　was　in　order　to　seize　him　in
her　turn；　to　draw　him　toward　the　doom　that　would　avenge　her；　and　to　lead
him　to　die；　that　she　appeared　thus　every　night。

He　began　to　cry　like　a　child；　repeating：

〃I　will　not　venture　it　againI　will　not　venture　it。〃

Then　he　fell　on　his　knees　and　murmured：

〃My　God！　　my　God！〃　without　believing；　nevertheless；　in　God。　　And　he　no
longer　dared；　in　fact；　to　look　at　his　window；　where　he　knew　the
apparition　was　hiding；　nor　at　his　table；　where　his　revolver　gleamed。
When　he　had　risen　up　he　said：

〃This　cannot　last；　there　must　be　an　end　of　it〃

The　sound　of　his　voice　in　the　silent　room　made　a　chill　of　fear　pass
through　his　limbs；　but　as　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　come　to　a
determination；　as　he　felt　certain　that　his　finger　would　always　refuse　to
pull　the　trigger　of　his