I escaped this
imminent peril at the risk of my life. On coming ashore, I hastened to
the Libyan sands, to dry myself in the sun; but the heat affected my
head so much, that, in a fit of illness, I staggered back to the north.
In vain I sought relief by change of place--hurrying from east to west,
and from west to east--now in climes of the south, now in those of the
north; sometimes I rushed into daylight, sometimes into the shades of
night. I know not how long this lasted. A burning fever raged in my
veins; with extreme anguish I felt my senses leaving me. Suddenly, by
an unlucky accident, I trod upon someone's foot, whom I had hurt, and
received a blow in return, which laid me senseless.

On recovering, I found myself lying comfortably in a good bed, which,
with many other beds, stood in a spacious and handsome apartment.
Someone was watching by me; people seemed to be walking from one bed to
another; they came beside me, and spoke of me as _Number Twelve_. On
the wall, at the foot of my bed,--it was no dream, for I distinctly
read it,--on a black-marble tablet was inscribed my name, in large
letters of gold:

PETER SCHLEMIHL.

Underneath were two rows of letters in smaller characters, which I was
too feeble to connect together, and closed my eyes again.

I now heard something read aloud, in which I distinctly noted the words
"Peter Schlemihl," but could not collect the full meaning. I saw a man
of benevolent aspect, and a very beautiful female dressed in black,
standing near my bed; their countenances were not unknown to me, but in
my weak state I could not remember who they were. Some time elapsed,
and I began to regain my strength. I was called Number Twelve, and,
from my long beard, was supposed to be a Jew, but was not the less
carefully nursed on that account. No one seemed to perceive that I was
destitute of a shadow. My boots, I was assured, together with every
thing found on me when I was brought here, were in safe keeping, and
would be given up to me on my restoration to health. This place was
called the SCHLEMIHLIUM: the daily recitation I had heard, was an
exhortation to pray for Peter Schlemihl as the founder and benefactor
of this institution. The benevolent-looking man whom I had seen by my
bedside was Bendel; the beautiful lady in black was Minna.

I had been enjoying the advantages of the Schlemihlium without being
recognised; and I learned, further, that I was in Ben