Old! old, old! And older, older, every minute, every second!
My hand went to my chin.... A beard was beginning to appear there.... It was growing rapidly ... a gray beard.... As I passed a hand over my temples, I could feel deep wrinkles there.
Three times the door of my chamber opened partly, and I could see the faces of the Ever-living Men peering in at me attentively. On each occasion I feigned sleep, closing my eyes.... But not entirely.... My eyelids were far enough apart for me to spy on what they did.... They did nothing.... But this I saw ... I saw that they were astounded ... plainly, evidently astounded at the age, the sudden age that had come over me....
* * * * * * * * *
I lay there inert....
What time was it, I wondered? What day of the week? What month of the year? And the year—was it of the era of our Lord?
My beard was gray at first. Now it had whitened. It had grown broad and long.... Thus do beards and hair grow on the bodies of the dead, I thought. The flesh seemed to have left my hands. Through the dry darkened skin that covered them I could feel brittle knotted bones....
Was the sun setting? It was growing dark in my bedroom-prison. Only a faltering light was now making its way through the grated window. And the water rushed foaming, whirling along, black and green, around my corpse ... softened the latter seemed ... mushy, gluey, loathesome....
* * * * * * * * *
Yes, night was coming on.... Again the Living Men entered to visit me ... the father and the son I mean.... The grandfather was not with them.... He was out of sight and hearing.... They came and stood at my bedside, looking at me for a long time, visibly preoccupied, visibly alarmed....