went to bed and put out his lamp. But sleep would not come; he tossed
about restlessly, and in the silence and darkness the very tension of
his nerves made him more and more remorseful.

The long hours of the night passed slowly. At last, toward morning, he
fell asleep; but his waking thoughts were distorted into a frightful
nightmare, and he started up in terror. He had dreamt that his bed was
the sea, while his pillow was a shark, and his head was in the jaws of
the monster. Then the shark began to wear the face and shape of the
merchant's elder daughter, and a voice--the voice of Liakos--sounded in
his ear, repeating over and over:

"Ding, Dong! Ungrateful wretch! Ding, Dong! Ungrateful wretch!"

He sat up in bed, and as he wiped his dripping forehead with the silk
handkerchief, which had come untied in the agony of his dream, he made
an heroic resolution.

"I will marry her!" he cried. "I owe so much to my preserver. I must do
my duty and ease my conscience."

He covered himself up again, with a lighter heart; his mind was now
tranquil, and free from all suspicion, hesitation, or remorse.

The morning sunlight flooded his room and woke him a full hour later
than usual. It was the first time this had ever happened to the punctual
professor, and Florou was positively dazed. With heavy head and aching
eyes, he dressed hastily, swallowed his cup of black coffee, and sat
down to the unfinished task of the night before. But his thoughts still
wandered.