On the second day he made a false start. Absorbed in the perusal of the Baedeker for Central Italy which he had just bought, he got into the wrong train and headed straight for Lyons; it was only at Arles that he noticed his mistake, just as the train was starting, so that he was obliged to go on to Tarascon and come back over the same ground for the second time; then he took an evening train as far as Toulon rather than spend another night at Marseilles, where he had been pestered with bugs. And yet the room which looked on to the Cannebière had not been uninviting, nor the bed either, for that matter; he had got into it without misgivings, after having folded his clothes, done his accounts and said his prayers. He was dropping with sleep and went off at once. The manners and customs of bugs are peculiar; they wait till the candle is out, and then, as soon as it is dark, sally forth--not at random; they make straight for the neck, the place of their predilection; sometimes they select the wrists; a few rare ones prefer the ankles. It is not exactly known for what reason they inject into the sleeper’s skin an exquisitely irritating oily substance, the virulence of which is intensified by the slightest rubbing.... The irritation which awoke Fleurissoire was so violent that he lit his candle again and hurried to the looking-glass to gaze at his lower jaw, where there appeared an irregular patch of red dotted with little white spots; but the smoky dip gave a bad light; the silver of the glass was tarnished and his eyes were blurred with sleep.... He went back to bed still rubbing and put out his light; five minutes later he lit it again, for the itching had become intolerable, sprang to the wash-hand-stand, wetted his handkerchief in his water jug and applied it to the inflamed zone, which had greatly extended and now reached as far as his collar-bone. Amédée thought he was going to be ill and offered up a prayer; then he put out his candle once more. The respite which the cool compress had granted him lasted too short a time to permit the sufferer to go to sleep; and there was added now to the agony of the itching, the discomfort of having the collar of his night-shirt drenched with water; he drenched it, too, with his tears. And suddenly he started with horror--bugs! it was bugs!... He was surprised that he had not thought of them sooner; but he knew the insect only by name, and how was it possible to imagine that a definite bite could result in this indefinable burning? He shot out of his bed and for the third time lit his candle.