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 revolver, he turned round to hide his head under
the bedclothes and began to reflect.

He would have to find some way in which he could force himself to die,
to play some trick on himself which would not permit of any hesitation
on his part, any delay, any possible regrets. He envied condemned
criminals who are led to the scaffold surrounded by soldiers. Oh! if he
could only beg of some one to shoot him; if after confessing his crime
to a true friend who would never divulge it he could procure death at
his hand. But from whom could he ask this terrible service? From whom?
He thought of all the people he knew. The doctor? No, he would talk
about it afterward, most probably. And suddenly a fantastic idea entered
his mind. He would write to the magistrate, who was on terms of close
friendship with him, and would denounce himself as the perpetrator of
the crime. He would in this letter confess everything, revealing how his
soul had been tortured, how he had resolved to die, how he had hesitated
about carrying out his resolution and what means he had employed to
strengthen his failing courage. And in the name of their old friendship
he would implore of the other to destroy the letter as soon as he had
ascertained that the culprit had inflicted justice on himself. Renardet
could rely on this magistrate; he knew him to be true, discreet,
incapable of even an idle word. He was one of those men who have an
inflexible conscience, governed, directed, regulated by their reason
alone.

Scarcely had he formed this project when a strange feeling of joy took
possession of his heart. He was calm now. He would write his letter
slowly, then at daybreak he would deposit it in the box nailed to the
outside wall of his office; then he would ascend his tower to watch
for the postman's arrival; and when the man in the blue blouse had gone
away, he would cast himself head foremost on the rocks on which the
foundations rested, He would take care to be seen first by the workmen
who had cut down his wood. He could climb to the projecting