became a little
calmer, and as he was mixing himself a glass of whisky and water at the
sideboard he decided that he would go to bed. He was sure that he would
be better for a good night's rest; evidently his nerves were out of
order; it would not do for him to read late at night. He realized all at
once that his mind and body alike were exhausted.

He passed a miserable night, dozing and waking at alternate hours until
three o'clock, when he found it impossible to get to sleep; hour after
hour he lay flat on his back staring open-eyed into the darkness,
listening to the ticking of the clock, the mysterious footsteps that
creaked the floors overhead, and the persistent drip of a water faucet.
Outside in the street he heard at long intervals the rattling of wheels
as the early milk wagons came and went; a dog began to bark, three gruff
notes repeated monotonously at exact intervals; all at once there was a
long muffled roll and an abrupt clacking noise; it ceased, then broke
out again sharply, paused once more, then recommenced, settling to a
prolonged minor hum; the cable was starting up; it was almost morning,
the window of his room began to show a brighter blur in the darkness,
while very far off he could hear the steady puffing of a locomotive. As
the first cable-car trundled by the house he dropped off to sleep for
the last time, being waked again toward nine o'clock by the sound of
some one shovelling coal outside under his window, the shovel clinking
and rasping upon the stone sidewalk.

He felt a little refreshed, but as he entered the dining-room for his
late breakfast the smell of food repulsed him; his appetite was gone; it
was impossible for him to eat. Toward eleven o'clock that same morning
he was pottering idly about his sitting-room, winding his clock and
shaking down the ashes in the tiled flamboyant stove; his mind was still
busy going over for the hundredth time all the possibilities of Hiram
Wade's suit, and he was just wondering whether something in the way of a
compromise might not be arranged, when with the suddenness of a blow
between the eyes the numbness in his head returned, together with the
same unreasoning fear, the same depression of spirits, the same fearful
sinking of the heart. What! it was coming back again, this strange
attack, coming back even when his attention was not concentrated, even
when there was no unusual exertion of his brain!

Then the torment began. This time the crisis