Chapter 60 Four shapes of pain in sleep

It had just struck three o'clock in the morning, and he had been walking up and down like that almost non-stop for five hours.Later, he collapsed on a chair. He fell asleep on it and had a dream. The dream, like most dreams, had only to do with some tragic and inexplicable situation, but he was moved nonetheless.The nightmare hit him so hard that he later jotted it down.This is a piece of paper that he wrote with his own hand.We believe that this content should be recorded here in the original text. Whatever the dream was, if we pass over it, the night will not be complete.It was a poignant story of a man with a heart disease.

Here it is.There was a line on the envelope: "The dream I had that night." He woke up, frozen.A gust as cold as the morning breeze turned the shutters in the open mortars.The fire is out.The candles were almost finished.It was still night. He stood up and walked towards the window, but there were still no stars in the sky. From his window he could see the courtyard and the street of the house.Suddenly there was a crisp and firm sound on the ground, and he looked down. Below him he saw two red stars, their lights flickering and shrinking in the shadows, strangely shaped. As his mind was still half-dreamed, he thought: "Strange! There are no stars in the sky, and they are here on earth now."

At this time, he gradually woke up from the dream, and he was completely awakened by the same sound as the first time. He looked carefully, and then realized that the two stars turned out to be the hanging lights on a car.From the light from the two hanging lamps, he could see the shape of the car.It was a small cart with a white horse behind it.The first thing he heard was the tramp of a horse's hooves. "What kind of car is this?" he said to himself. "Who's here so early in the morning?" At this time, someone knocked lightly on the door of his room. He shivered from head to toe, and called out in a strange voice:

"Who is it?" Someone answered: "It's me, Mr. Mayor." He recognized the voice of the old woman—his porter. "What's the matter?" he asked again. "Mr. Mayor, it's almost five o'clock in the morning." "What does this tell me?" "Mr. Mayor, here comes the car." "What car?" "Car." "What car?" "Hasn't Monsieur the Mayor asked for a car?" "No," he said. "The driver said he was looking for Mr. Mayor." "Which coachman?" "Mr. Scowfryer's coachman."

"Mr. Scotfryer?" The name startled him, and it was as if an electric light had flashed before him. "Ah! Yes!" he replied, "Mr. Scouffler." If the old woman had seen him then, she would have been frightened by him. He remained silent for a while.He stared blankly at the flame of the candle, and took out a little hot wax from the side of the candle wick, and kneaded it between his fingers.The old woman waited for a while before she took the courage to ask loudly: "How should I reply, Mr. Mayor?" "You said yes, I will come down."