She again took up her interrupted way. As she drew nearer to the door:
“And good-bye to you, David, sleep well!” she called from the threshold upon a strange high pitch.
Master Simon looked after her, shook his head, drew a deep breath of doubt through his nostrils and ran his hand distractedly through his beard. He was very tired, and felt a certain confusion in his head, succeeding the exhilaration of an hour ago. Belphegor was humped in a corner. Nothing seemed to be going quite according to calculations. David passed him with a quick step. “I am going to sleep,” said he, in a curious still voice, as he went by.
Sleep! It was a pleasing suggestion.
“Ellinor,” said the old man plaintively, “if there is any of that calming decoction left, I think I might do well to partake of it myself to-night.”
“There is a whole cup still,” said Ellinor, and turned back to the shelf.
CHAPTER XII
TO SLEEP—PERCHANCE TO DREAM!
My heart a charmed slumber keeps
And a languid fire creeps
Through my veins to all my frame,