Oh, did I not
feel that I was saved as I struck my hands against the wooden frame! "This
is the way one dies!" said I to myself. "Now you will die!" and I lay for
a while and thought over that I was to die.
Then I start up in bed and ask severely, "If I found the word, am I not
absolutely within my right to decide myself what it is to signify?"... I
could hear myself that I was raving. I could hear it now whilst I was
talking. My madness was a delirium of weakness and prostration, but I was
not out of my senses. All at once the thought darted through my brain that
I was insane. Seized with terror, I spring out of bed again, I stagger to
the door, which I try to open, fling myself against it a couple of times
to burst it, strike my head against the wall, bewail loudly, bite my
fingers, cry and curse....
All was quiet; only my own voice echoed from the walls. I had fallen to
the floor, incapable of stumbling about the cell any longer.
Lying there I catch a glimpse, high up, straight before my eyes, of a
greyish square in the wall, a suggestion of white, a presage--it must be
of daylight. I felt it must be daylight, felt it through every pore in my
body. Oh, did I not draw a breath of delighted relief! I flung myself flat
on the floor and cried for very joy over this blessed glimpse of light,
sobbed for very gratitude, blew a kiss to the window, and conducted myself
like a maniac.
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