Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VI. Hell
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
in the studio. It was a coincidence, then, but
who caused it, and what is his object?) I
change my place, and lie down on the hall
carpet. Merciful sleep descends upon my tortured
spirit, and for about half an hour I lose
consciousness of my sufferings. Then a distinct cry
“Alp!” makes me suddenly start up. “Alp!”
That is the German for nightmare. “Alp” is
the word which the rainstorm caused to be
formed on my paper in the Hôtel Orfila. Who
uttered that cry? No one, for the whole house
is asleep. Is it a devil’s game? That is a
poetical expression which perhaps contains the
whole truth.
I mount the steps to my attic. The candles
have burnt to their sockets; deep silence reigns.
The Angelus rings out. It is the day of the
Lord. I open my breviary and read “De Profundis
clamavi ad Te, Domine!” That comforts
me, and I sink down on the bed like a
corpse.
July 26th, Sunday.—A cyclone devastates the
Jardin des Plantes. The papers contain items
which I find especially interesting. To-day,
Andrée’s balloon is to ascend for its voyage to
the North Pole, but the occasion is not
propitious. The storm has hurled down several
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
