"'You saw?'
"'Yes, I saw.'
"'Can it be that he is not dead?'
"'Why not, when the body is putrefying?'
"'What are we to do?'
"My companion said in a hesitating tone:
"'We must go and look.'
"I took our wax candle and I entered first, searching with my eye through all the large apartment with its dark corners. There was not the least movement now, and I approached the bed. But I stood transfixed with stupor and fright: Schopenhauer was no longer laughing! He was grinning in a horrible fashion, with his lips pressed together and deep hollows in his cheeks. I stammered out:
"'He is not dead!'
"But the terrible odor rose up to my nose and stifled me. And I no longer moved, but kept staring fixedly at him, scared as if in the presence of the apparition.