The returning sense of sight came upon me, red, as if it swam in blood; suspended hearing rushed back loud, like thunder; consciousness revived in fear: I sat up appalled, wondering into what region, amongst what strange beings I was waking.

At first I knew nothing I looked on: a wall was not a wall--a lamp not a lamp.

I should have understood what we call a ghost, as well as I did the commonest object: which is another way of intimating that all my eye rested on struck it as spectral.

But the faculties soon settled each in his place; the life-machine presently resumed its wonted and regular working.
Still, I knew not where I was; only in time I saw I had been removed from the spot where I fell: I lay on no portico-step; night and tempest were excluded by walls, windows, and ceiling.

Into some house I had been carried--but what house?
I could only think of the pensionnat in the Rue Fossette.