of flames darted up to the sky. Through all the windows which
opened on to that furnace, I saw the flames darting, and I
reflected that He was there, in that kiln, dead.

Dead? Perhaps? His body? Was not his body, which was transparent,
indestructible by such means as would kill ours?

If He were not dead? Perhaps time alone has power over that
Invisible and Redoubtable Being. Why this transparent,
unrecognizable body, this body belonging to a spirit, if it also
had to fear ills, infirmities, and premature destruction?

Premature destruction? All human terror springs from that! After
man the Horla. After him who can die every day, at any hour, at
any moment, by any accident, He came, He who was only to die at
his own proper hour and minute, because He had touched the limits
of his existence!

No--no--there is no doubt about it--He is not dead. Then--then--I
suppose I must kill MYSELF!



MISS HARRIET

There were seven of us in a four-in-hand, four women and three
men, one of whom was on the box seat beside the coachman. We were
following, at a foot pace, broad highway which serpentines along
the coast.