walked up and down the
dark kitchen, which was scarcely lighted by the flame of one candle. He
walked from one end of it to the other with great strides, listening,
listening to hear the terrible cry of the preceding night again break
the dreary silence outside. He felt himself alone, unhappy man, as no
man had ever been alone before! Alone in this immense desert of snow,
alone five thousand feet above the inhabited earth; above human
habitations, above that stirring, noisy, palpitating life, alone under
an icy sky! A mad longing impelled him to run away, no matter where, to
get down to Loeche by flinging himself over the precipice; but he did
not even dare to open the door, as he felt sure that the other, the
DEAD, man would bar his road, so that he might not be obliged to remain
up there alone.

Toward midnight, tired with walking, worn-out by grief and fear, he
fell into a doze in his chair, for he was afraid of his bed, as one is
of a haunted spot. But suddenly the strident cry of the preceding
evening pierced his ears, so shrill that Ulrich stretched out his arms
to repulse the ghost, and he fell on to his back with his chair.

Sam, who was awakened by the noise, began to howl as frightened dogs
do, and trotted all about the house trying to find out where the danger
came from. When he got to the door, he sniffed beneath it, smelling
vigorously, with his coat bristling and his tail stiff while he growled
angrily. Kunsi, who was terrified, jumped up, and holding his chair by
one leg, cried: "Don't come in, don't come in, or I shall kill you."
And the dog, excited by this threat, barked angrily at that invisible
enemy who defied his master's voice. By degrees, however, he quieted
down, came back and stretched himself in front of the fire. But he was
uneasy, and kept his head up, and growled between his teeth.

Ulrich, in turn, recovered his senses, but as he felt faint with
terror, he went and got a bottle of brandy out of the sideboard, and
drank off several glasses, one after another, at a gulp. His ideas
became vague, his courage revived, and a feverish glow ran through his
veins.

He ate scarcely anything the next day, and limited himself to alcohol;
so he lived for several days, like a drunken brute. As soon as he
thought of Gaspard Hari he began to drink again, and went on drinking
until he fell on to the floor, overcome by intoxication. And there he
remained on his face, dead drunk, his limbs benumbed, and