gress as I wished, and in my soul there was that chaos which precedes a clear comprehension of the more important principles of science.

No wonder that I oftener sought a glass than usual; no wonder that I left the tavern sooner than I had intended, and that, when I returned to my room, I felt more tired than when I left. I sat upon a chair near my writing-desk, took a book out of the case at random, opened it, and began reading. I had hardly glanced over half a page when I pushed the book aside, and resting my head on both my hands, went on thinking,—and by and by began to slumber.

All of a sudden I heard the hollow rattling of a carriage. I lifted my head and listened. A dead stillness was around me; only now and then I heard the moan of the autumnal wind. The rattling sound came nearer and nearer, until the carriage stopped, it seemed, in front of the house where I dwelt. I wanted to rise and look from the window; but being tired, I overcame my curiosity and remained seated. I heard how some one rang the janitor’s bell, and how the door opened, and was closed.

No one lived in the house who would come home in a carriage; but the sound of voices, especially the janitor’s voice, showed that the comer was one who had a right to enter. In a few moments drowsiness overcame me again. I cannot say how long I dozed; but I was awakened by a gentle tapping at the chamber door. Again I lifted up my head and listened. A lamp was burning on the table before me, only faintly illuminating my study with its yellowish light ; all around was as still as the grave.

But what is that? Again I heard a distinct knocking at the door.

“Come in!” I said, with a feeble voice. The door opened quietly, and in the dusk I saw the tall figure of a man, I was about ten steps from him, and could not distinguish his features nor his dress.

“Who are you and what do you wish, so late?” I addressed the figure that stood motionless at the door. Without answering, the man opened wide the door, and the yellowish glitter of the