CHAPTER XLII

THE POWER OF HYPNOTISM

The relative calm that Saniel had felt since his marriage he owed to
Phillis; to the strength, the confidence, the peace that he drew from
her. Phillis without strength, without confidence, without interior
peace, such as she was now, could not give him what she no longer had
herself, and he returned to the distracted condition that preceded his
marriage, and felt the same anguish, the same agitation, the same
madness. The beautiful relations, worldly consideration, success,
decorations, honors, were good for others; but for his happiness he
required the tranquillity and serenity of his wife, and her good moral
health which passed into him when she slept on his shoulder. In that
case there were no sudden awakenings, no sleeplessness; at the sound of
her gentle respiration he was reassured, and the spectres remained in
their tomb.

But now that this respiration was agitated, and he no longer felt in her
this tranquillity and serenity, he was no longer calm; she was weak and
uneasy, and she communicated her fever to him, not her sleep.

"You do not sleep. Why do you not sleep?"

"And you?"

He must know.

He persisted in his questions, but she was always on her guard, so that
he was unable to draw anything from her, checked as he was by the fear of