"Oh!" said I now to myself, "what a fool I have been! Nightmare—nightmare."
"Hookey, but it isn't though," said Listado.
"Hillo," said I to myself again—for I was quite certain I had not spoken—"how the deuce can Listado answer my thoughts, which I have never uttered?"—And I tried to ask him, but my nose, or the cotton bag, would not let me speak. "Why, it must be nightmare," again thought I to myself.
"The devil a nightmare is it," again said Listado.
And I now began to take fright in earnest; when, on the opposite wall, for I could only see in the direction of the foot of my bed, a gradually increasing gleam of pale glow-worm-coloured light fell; streaming apparently through the door that opened at my shoulder into the large lumber-room already described.
The light seemed to proceed from the further end of this apartment, because the shadow of one of the boxes of goods that lay scattered about the floor was cast strongly against the wall of my room at the foot of the bed.
"What can this mean?" for I knew from actual survey the geography of the apartment from whence the glare proceeded; "what can this mean? Some trick of Listado's. Snapdragon, snapdragon."
"Snapdragon be d—d simply," quoth Listado's voice once more.
"Heyday," quoth I.
But there he lay, full in the stream of light, apparently sound asleep; and so transmogrified under its baleful influence, that he looked more like a corpse than a living man.