CHAPTER XLVI.



One morning early, I threw myself upon my pallet, having first
placed my handkerchief, as usual, under my pillow. Shortly after,
falling asleep, I suddenly woke, and found myself in a state of
suffocation; my persecutors were strangling me, and, on putting my
hand to my throat, I actually found my own handkerchief, all
knotted, tied round my neck. I could have sworn I had never made
those knots; yet I must have done this in my delirium; but as it was
then impossible to believe it, I lived in continual expectation of
being strangled. The recollection is still horrible. They left me
at dawn of day; and, resuming my courage, I no longer felt the least
apprehension, and even imagined it would be impossible they should
again return. Yet no sooner did the night set in, than I was again
haunted by them in all their horrors; being made sensible of their
gradual approach by cold shiverings, the loss of all power, with a
species of fascination which riveted both the eye and the mind. In
fact, the more weak and wretched I felt, at night, the greater were
my efforts during the day to appear cheerful in conversing with my
companions, with the two boys at the palace, and with my jailers.
No one to hear my jokes, would have imagined it possible that I was
suffering under the disease I did. I thought to encourage myself by
this forced merriment, but the spectral visions which I laughed at
by day became fearful realities in the hours of darkness.

Had I dared, I should have petitioned the commission to change my
apartment, but the fear of ridicule, in case I should be asked my
reasons, restrained me. No reasonings, no studies, or pursuits, and