At any rate, they went, and when next he saw them they were lying in a heap by the side of the bed.
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 _cafe-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 "_bete_." 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.