Then it would seem that he fainted， overcome by these terrors， real or imaginary. At any rate， when he opened his eyes again it was to see the daylight creeping into the room (never before had he appreciated so thoroughly the beauties of the dawn) and to find himself lying half frozen on the bed with the pillow， which he was clasping affectionately， for his sole covering.
At breakfast that morning he looked so peculiar and dilapidated， that Madame and Juliette made tender inquiries as to his health， to which he replied that his bedclothes had come off in the night and the cold had given him a chill "in the middle." They were very sympathetic， and dosed him with hot /café-au-lait/， but the Pasteur， studying him through the blue spectacles， said， "Ah， is it so？" in a kind of triumphant tone which Madame designated as "/bête/." Indeed， to those unacquainted with what was passing in M. Boiset's mind， it must have seemed particularly stupid.
When breakfast was over he possessed himself of Godfrey， and led him to the observatory， where the stove was already lit， though this was not usual in the daytime， especially on Sundays.
"Now， my boy， tell me all about it，" he said， and Godfrey told him， feebly suggesting that it might have been a nightmare.
"Nightmare！ Nonsense. The witch Riennes has sent her demon to torment you， that is all. I thought she would. It is quite according to rule， a most clear and excellent case. Indeed， I /am/ a lucky student."
"I don't believe in witches，" said Godfrey， "I always heard they were rubbish."
"Ah！ I don't know. Here in the mountains these Swiss people believe in them， and tell strange stories， some of which I have heard as their Pasteur， especially when I held office among the High Alps. Also the Bible speaks of them often， does it not， and what was， is， and shall be， as Solomon says. Oh！ why hesitate？ Without doubt this woman is a witch who poses as an innocent modern spiritualist. But she shall not send her pretty female devil after you again， for I will make that room impossible to her."
"Please do，" said Godfrey. "And as for Madame Riennes， it is certainly strange that she should have known about the things I had in my pocket the other day， although of course， she may have followed me into the shops."
"Yes， yes， she followed you into the shops， she or her demon， though perhaps you would not see her there. What did you tell me？ That in the villa you thought that the dead Mademoiselle was warning you against something？ Well， perhaps she was， for she was a good woman， though weak and foolish to trust to spiritualism， and now， without doubt， she sees all， and would protect you of whom she is fond."
"Then I wish she had done it a little better，" said Godfrey. "Oh！@@listen， there's a rap！"
A rap there was certainly， on the hot iron of the stove， a resonant， ringing rap. The Pasteur advanced and made an examination， and while he was doing so there came another. What is more， in a most inexplicable fashion his blue spectacles flew from his nose. Very solemnly he found and replaced them and then， with the utmost dignity， addressing himself to the stove， he cursed and exorcised that article of domestic furniture in his best medi？val Latin. Apparently the effort was successful， for there were no more manifestations.
