breath, to turn over and throw off this being which is crushing
and suffocating me--I cannot!

And then suddenly I wake up, shaken and bathed in perspiration; I
light a candle and find that I am alone, and after that crisis,
which occurs every night, I at length fall asleep and slumber
tranquilly till morning.

June 2. My state has grown worse. What is the matter with me? The
bromide does me no good, and the shower-baths have no effect
whatever. Sometimes, in order to tire myself out, though I am
fatigued enough already, I go for a walk in the forest of
Roumare. I used to think at first that the fresh light and soft
air, impregnated with the odor of herbs and leaves, would instill
new life into my veins and impart fresh energy to my heart. One
day I turned into a broad ride in the wood, and then I diverged
toward La Bouille, through a narrow path, between two rows of
exceedingly tall trees, which placed a thick, green, almost black
roof between the sky and me.

A sudden shiver ran through me, not a cold shiver, but a shiver
of agony, and so I hastened my steps, uneasy at being alone in
the wood, frightened stupidly and without reason, at the profound
solitude. Suddenly it seemed as if I were being followed, that
somebody was walking at my heels, close, quite close to me, near
enough to touch me.

I turned round suddenly, but I was alone. I saw nothing behind me
except the straight, broad ride, empty and bordered by high
trees, horribly empty; on the other side also it extended until