The fiend himself seemed startled by
the sudden and preternatural shrillness of the scream, and for a moment
changed the expression of his countenance. Feeling his eye no longer
fixed upon mine with that fearful intensity, I dared to breathe again;
but I had awoke Mrs. Wharton in the next room, and she knocked at my
door to ask me what was the matter. "Nothing, thank you," I said; "only a dream; don't be alarmed." So Mrs. Wharton retired to her room again. The monster who had never left me during all this time, at length spoke. "I have summoned you here to-night, because I have need of you. I am
that Baron Ralph, the ruthless, whose deeds of bloodshed you have
already heard of, and for which deeds he is condemned nightly to inhabit
the form of a flea. You have experienced my power, and your paltry
scepticism has been shaken. Listen now to me. I do not always inhabit
the contemptible form in which you first saw me. In the daytime I wander
to and fro on the earth, and inhabit by turns the bodies of such men
whose natural propensities are in harmony with my own. Wretch! do you
know that the man, who, through your inability to save, was executed
for some few paltry murders, was none other than myself in the flesh? That it was _my_ body that suffered the pain and disgrace of execution,
_my_ spirit that was driven back by your incapacity, to inhabit the form
of one of the vilest of insects? Think not to escape my resentment. I
have need of you again, it is true, but I do not ask you a favour, I
command you to obey. Spirits of my order do not ask; they command and
threaten, and if disobeyed, punish." Aware of the awful power of this fell being and knowing all resistance
vain, I thought it best to assume as humble a position as I could, in
order to milden the severity of his look and manner--that fearful look
that I had experienced only a few minutes ago, and which might kill me
outright a second time. Therefore I prostrated myself before him on the
bed, and in the most abject tones began. "Illustrious flea! I will do all----"

"Irreverent varlet!" exclaimed the Baron, fiercely, darting at me a
glance from his evil eye that froze my very marrow. "That name is
offensive to me, another such title as that, and I'll--I'll"--here the
Baron's face went through the most hideously savage contortions that it
is possible to imagine. The Baron's portrait taken in the flesh was ugly
enough, but it was an ideal of manly beauty compared with the infernal
aspect of this demon flea before me. "Mercy! mercy!" cried I, gasping. "Oh, yes, 'Mercy, mercy,'" retorted the Baron, with a sneer. "Very well,
then, this time, but mind----" Here his countenance again assumed a
ferocious expression. "Ha! ha!" he cried. "You thought to outwit me by
taking opium to deaden my bite. Fool! know it was _I_ who made you buy
that opium; not to make you _sleep_, but to _awaken_ your dull senses to
such a pitch that the gross material clay that clogs your vision might
be, as it were, doffed for a moment, and that your keener eyesight might
be able to grasp my form a degree nearer resembling that which I bore in
the flesh, thereby in a measure removing the barrier between our beings;
and each, as it were, meeting on neutral ground, to the end that you
should know my pleasure and obey my commands. It was I who caused you to
catch that toothache, by inspiring you to go to the theatre. It was I
who so ordained the distribution of the tickets that that ticket near
the door should fall to your lot, where I knew you would take cold in
the tooth, being subject to the toothache. I then, by my subtle arts,
caused you to buy that bottle of opium and bring it here with you. I
then worried you by continual biting, till I forced you to seek comfort
in that opium bottle, and now that your usually obtuse senses are raised
to that abnormal state necessary to converse with beings of my order,
listen, and give ear to what I have to say." "Awful being, say on," I muttered. "You must know, then," he continued, "that my spirit inhabits by day
the body of the present Baron who bears my name, though at night I am
compelled to assume the ignoble shape of a flea. At this present moment
my descendant lies in his bed lifeless. My spirit will animate his clay
to-morrow. Call upon him early, and you will learn from him what I have
not time to discuss with you now, as it is now daybreak and my power is
on the wane. Farewell." So saying, he gradually decreased in size, losing every moment more and
more of the _human_ element that he had assumed, and growing more and
more into the likeness of a flea the smaller he grew, till he returned
to the size he appeared when I first saw him, and then vanished
mysteriously. The exciting effects of the opium had worn off, but they
had given place to a feeling of deep depression. My head felt too heavy
for me, and ached terribly; my eyeballs were as if weighed down by lead. I could not sleep comfortably, and I was too lazy to get up. I loathed
my own existence, and hated everybody and everything around me. Thoughts
of suicide haunted me, and I had a momentary thought of emptying the
whole of the remaining contents of the bottle down my throat, and so put
an end to my misery for ever. But then I bethought me of the Baron; it
might be the means of invoking again the "Phantom Flea." He might be angry at being recalled, and possibly carry me off, soul and
all. I turned and tossed about restlessly in my bed, and kicked the
bed-clothes on to the floor. The cold grey dawn broke in at my window. I thought I would get up, so, giving one desperate spring, I found
myself upon my feet. My tongue was parched, and a cold sweat matted my
hair. I felt a prodigious thirst, and emptied a whole water-bottle; then
I proceeded to dress, but I soon found that to shave was an utter
impossibility. My hand shook as with the palsy, so I abandoned the
attempt. Unshaven, unkempt, and negligently dressed, with haggard look
and listless steps, I sauntered about the lonely corridors of the
mansion like a restless spirit, until I heard the footsteps of Mrs.
Wharton about the house. I started at the slightest noise. I was soon
accosted by that worthy, who, of course, wanted to know how I had slept. "I passed an indifferent night," I replied. "I foolishly took some opium
to make me sleep, and it has given me the headache. By the by,"--I said,
to change the conversation, so as to avoid being questioned, for I saw
the old lady was scanning my countenance--"by the by, where did you say
the Baron was staying? If not too far off, I should like to call upon
him; a walk might do me good." "About five miles off, sir, in the next village, at the sign of 'The
Swan,'" said the housekeeper; "as straight as ever you can go, sir, you
can't miss it." "Thank you," said I. "Poor, poor, gentleman," I heard the housekeeper mutter to herself, as I
started off, "I knew he would suffer."