indulged　in　sauerkraut　at　dinner。　　He　advised　me　to　take　a　little
  brandy；　but；　affecting　a　fresh　access　of　pain；　I　bade　him　good…
  night。　　He　hoped　I　should　be　all　right　on　the　morrowif　not；　he
  added；　we　can　postpone　our　journey　till　the　day　after。
  Once　in　my　own　room　I　bolted　the　door；　and　sat　down　on　the　edge　of
  the　bed　in　a　tumult　of　excitement。
  V
  FLUCTUATIONS
  Alone　with　my　thoughts；　and　capable　of　pursuing　conjectures　and
  conclusions　without　external　interruption；　I　quickly　exhausted　all
  the　hypothetical　possibilities　of　the　case；　and；　from　having
  started　with　the　idea　that　Bourgonef　was　the　assassin；　I　came　at
  last　to　the　more　sensible　conclusion　that　I　was　a　constructive
  blockhead。　　My　suspicions　were　simply　outrageous　in　their　defect　of
  evidence；　and　could　never　for　one　moment　have　seemed　otherwise　to
  any　imagination　less　riotously　active　than　mine。
  I　bathed　my　heated　head；　undressed　myself；　and　got　into　bed；
  considering　what　I　should　say　to　the　police　when　I　went　next
  morning　to　communicate　my　suspicions。　　And　it　is　worthy　of　remark；
  as　well　as　somewhat　ludicrously　self…betraying；　that　no　sooner　did
  I　mentally　see　myself　in　the　presence　of　the　police；　and　was　thus
  forced　to　confront　my　suspicions　with　some　appearance　of　evidence；
  than　the　whole　fabric　of　my　vision　rattled　to　the　ground。　　What　had
  I　to　say　to　the　police？　　Simply　that；　on　the　evening　of　the　night
  when　Lieschen　was　murdered；　I　had　passed　in　a　public　thoroughfare　a
  man　whom　I　could　not　identify；　but　who　as　I　could　not　help
  fancying；　seemed　to　recognize　me。　　This　man；　I　had　persuaded
  myself；　was　the　murderer；　for　which　persuasion　I　was　unable　to
  adduce　a　tittle　of　evidence。　　It　was　uncolored　by　the　remotest
  possibility。　　It　was　truly　and　simply　the　suggestion　of　my　vagrant
  fancy；　which　had　mysteriously　settled　itself　into　a　conviction；　and
  having　thus　capriciously　identified　the　stranger　with　Lieschen's
  murderer；　I　now；　upon　evidence　quite　as　preposterous；　identified
  Bourgonef　with　the　stranger。
  The　folly　became　apparent　even　to　myself。　　If　Bourgonef　had　in　his
  possession　a　rouge…pot　and　false　beard；　I　could　not　but　acknowledge
  that　he　made　no　attempt　to　conceal　them；　nor　had　he　manifested　any
  confusion　on　their　appearance。　　He　had　quietly　characterized　them
  as　masquerading　follies。　　Moreover；　I　now　began　to　remember
  distinctly　that　the　stranger　did　carry　a　walking…stick　in　his　right
  hand；　and　as　Bourgonef　had　lost　his　right　arm；　that　settled　the
  point。
  Into　such　complications；　would　the　tricks　of　imagination　lead　me！
  I　blushed　mentally；　and　resolved　to　let　it　serve　as　a　lesson　in
  future。　　It　is　needless；　however；　to　say　that　the　lesson　was　lost；
  as　such　lessons　always　are　lost；　a　strong　tendency　in　any　direction
  soon　disregards　all　the　teachings　of　experience。　　I　am　still　not
  the　less　the　victim　of　my　constructive　imagination；　because　I　have
  frequently　had　to　be　ashamed　of　its　vagaries。
  The　next　morning　I　awoke　with　a　lighter　breast；　rejoicing　in　the
  caution　which　had　delayed　me　from　any　rash　manifestation　of
  suspicions　now　seen　to　be　absurd。　　I　smiled　as　the　thought　arose：
  what　if　this　suspected　stranger　should　also　be　pestered　by　an
  active　imagination；　and　should　entertain　similar　suspicions　of　me？
  He　must　have　seen　in　my　eyes　the　look　of　recognition　which　I　saw　in
  his。　　On　hearing　of　the　murder；　our　meeting　may　also　have　recurred
  to　him；　and　his　suspicions　would　have　this　color；　wanting　to　mine；
  that　I　happen　to　inherit　with　my　Italian　blood　a　somewhat　truculent
  appearance；　which　has　gained　for　me　among　my　friends　the　playful
  sobriquet　of　〃the　brigand。〃
  Anxious　to　atone　at　once　for　my　folly；　and　to　remove　from　my　mind
  any　misgivingif　it　existedat　my　quitting　him　so　soon　after　the
  disclosures　of　the　masquerading　details；　I　went　to　Bourgonef　as
  soon　as　I　was　dressed　and　proposed　a　ramble　till　the　diligence
  started　for　Munich。　　He　was　sympathetic　in　his　inquiries　about　my
  colic；　which　I　assured　him　had　quite　passed　away；　and　out　we　went。
  The　sharp　morning　air　of　March　made　us　walk　briskly；　and　gave　a
  pleasant　animation　to　our　thoughts。　　As　he　discussed　the　acts　of
  the　provisional　government；　so　wise；　temperate；　and　energetic；　the
  fervor　and　generosity　of　his　sentiments　stood　out　in　such　striking
  contrast　with　the　deed　I　had　last　night　recklessly　imputed　to　him
  that　I　felt　deeply　ashamed；　and　was　nearly　carried　away　by　mingled
  admiration　and　self…reproach　to　confess　the　absurd　vagrancy　of　my
  thoughts　and　humbly　ask　his　pardon。　　But　you　can　understand　the
  reluctance　at　a　confession　so　insulting　to　him；　so　degrading　to　me。
  It　is　at　all　times　difficult　to　tell　a　man；　face　to　face；　eye　to
  eye；　the　evil　you　have　thought　of　him；　unless　the　recklessness　of
  anger　seizes　on　it　as　a　weapon　with　which　to　strike；　and　I　had　now
  so　completely　unsaid　to　myself　all　that　I　once　had　thought　of　evil；
  that　to　put　it　in　words　seemed　a　gratuitous　injury　to　me　and　insult
  to　him。
  A　day　or　two　after　our　arrival　in　Munich　a　reaction　began　steadily
  to　set　in。　　Ashamed　as　I　was　of　my　suspicions；　I　could　not
  altogether　banish　from　my　mind　the　incident　which　had　awakened
  them。　　The　image　of　that　false　beard　would　mingle　with　my　thoughts。
  I　was　vaguely　uncomfortable　at　the　idea　of　Bourgonef's　carrying
  about　with　him　obvious　materials　of　disguise。　　In　itself　this　would
  have　had　little　significance；　but　coupled　with　the　fact　that　his
  devoted　servant　wasin　spite　of　all　Bourgonef's　eulogies
  repulsively　ferocious　in　aspect；　capable；　as　I　could　not　help
  believing；　of　any　brutality；the　suggestion　was　unpleasant。　　You
  will　understand　that　having　emphatically　acquitted　Bourgonef　in　my
  mind；　I　did　not　again　distinctly　charge　him　with　any　complicity　in
  the　mysterious　murder；　on　the　contrary；　I　should　indignantly　have
  repelled　such　a　thought；　but　the　uneasy　sense　of　some　mystery　about
  him；　coupled　with　the　accessories　of　disguise；　and　the　aspect　of
  the　servant；　gave　rise　to　dim；　shadowy　forebodings　which　ever　and
  anon　passed　across　my　mind。
  Did　it　ever　occur　to　you；　reader；　to　reflect　on　the　depths　of
  deceit　which　lie　still　and　dark　even　in　the　honestest　minds？
  Society　reposes　on　a　thin　crust　of　convention；　underneath　which　lie
  fathomless　possibilities　of　crime；　and　consequently　suspicions　of
  crime。　　Friendship；　however　close　and　dear；　is　not　free　from　its
  reserves；　unspoken　beliefs；　more　or　less　suppressed　opinions。　　The
  man　whom　you　would　indignantly　defend　against　any　accusation
  brought　by　another；　so　confident　are　you　in　his　unshakable
  integrity；　you　may　yourself　momentarily　suspect　of　crimes　far
  exceeding　those　which　you　repudiate。　　Indeed；　I　have　known
  sagacious　men　hold　that　perfect　frankness　in　expressing　the
  thoughts　is　a　sure　sign　of　imperfect　friendship；　something　is
  always　suppressed；　and　it　is　not　he　who　loves　you　that　〃tells　you
  candidly　what　he　thinks〃　of　your　person；　your　pretensions；　your
  children；　or　your　poems。　　Perfect　candor　is　dictated　by　envy；　or
  some　other　unfriendly　feeling；　making　friendship　a　stalking…horse；
  under　cover　of　which　it　shoots　the　arrow　which　will　rankle。
  Friendship　is　candid　only　when　the　candor　is　urgentmeant　to　avert
  impending　danger　or　to　rectify　an　error。　　The　candor　which　is　an
  impertinence　never　springs　from　friendship。　　Love　is　sympathetic。
  I　do　not；　of　course；　mean　to　intimate　that　my　feeling　for　Bourgonef
  was　of　that　deep　kind　which　justifies　the　name　of　friendship。　　I
  only　want　to　say　that　in　our　social　relations　we　are　constantly
  hiding　from　each　other；　under　the　smiles　and　courtesies　of　friendly
  interest；　thoughts　which；　if　expressed；　would　destroy　all　possible
  communionand　that；　nevertheless；　we　are　not　insincere　in　our
  smiles　and　courtesies；　and　therefore　there　is　nothing　paradoxical
  in　my　having　felt　great　admiration　for　Bourgonef；　and　great
  pleasure　in　his　society；　while　all　the　time　there　was　deep　down　in
  the　recesses　of　my　thoughts　an　uneasy　sense　of　a　dark　mystery　which
  possibly　connected　him　with　a　dreadful　crime。
  This　feeling　was　roused　into　greater　activity　by　an　incident　which
  now　occurred。　　One　morning　I　went　to　Bourgonef's　room；　which　was　at
  some　distance　from　mine　on　the　same　floor；　intending　to　propose　a
  visit　to　the　sculpture　at　the　Glyptothek。　　To　my　surprise　I　found
  Ivan　the　serf　standing　before　the　closed　door。　　He　looked　at　me
  like　a　mastiff　about　to　spring；　and　intimated　by　significant
  gestures　that　I　was　not　allowed　to　enter　the　room。　　Concluding　that
  his　master　was　occupied　in　some　way；　and　desired　not　to　be
  disturbed；　I　merely　signified　by　a　nod　that　my　visit　was　of　no
  consequence；　and　went　out。　　On　returning　about　an　hour　afterwards　I
  saw　Ivan　putting　three　pink　letters　into　the　letter…box　of　the
  hotel。　　I　attached　no　significance　to　this　very　ordinary　fact　at
  the　time；　but　went　up　to　my　room　and　began　writing　my　letters；　one
  of　which　was　to　my　lawyer；　sendi