Fleurissoire was just going off to sleep when a faint humming reminded him that he had failed to take the precaution of putting out his light before opening his window; for light attracts mosquitoes. He remembered, too, that he had somewhere read praises of the Lord, who has bestowed on this winged insect a special musical instrument, designed to warn the sleeper the moment before he is going to be stung. Then he let down the impenetrable muslin barrier all round him. “After all,” thought he to himself as he was dropping off, “how much better this is than those little felt cones of dried hay, which old Blafaphas sells under the quaint name of ‘fidibus’; one lights them on a little metal saucer; as they burn they give out a quantity of narcotic fumes; but before they stupefy the mosquitoes, they half stifle the sleeper. Fidibus! What a funny name! Fidibus....” He was just going off, when suddenly a sharp sting on the left side of his nose awoke him. He put his hand to the place and as he was softly stroking the raised and burning flesh--another sting on his wrist. Then right against his ear there sounded the mock of an impertinent buzzing.... Horror! he had shut the enemy up within the citadel! He reached out to the switch and turned on the light. Yes! the mosquito was there, settled high up on the net. Amédée was long-sighted and made him out distinctly; a creature that was wisp-like to absurdity, planted on four legs, with the other pair sticking out insolently behind him, long and curly; Amédée sat up on his bed. But how could he crush the insect against such flimsy, yielding material? No matter! He gave a hit with the palm of his hand, so hard and so quick that he thought he had burst a hole in the net. Not the shadow of a doubt but the mosquito was done for; he glanced down to look for its corpse; there was nothing--but he felt a fresh sting on the calf of his leg. At that, in order to get as much as possible of his person into shelter, he crept between the sheets and stayed there perhaps a quarter of an hour, without daring to turn out the light; then, all the same, somewhat reassured at catching neither sight nor sound of the enemy, he switched it off. And instantly the music began again. Then he put out one arm, keeping his hand close to his face, and from time to time when he thought he felt one well settled on his forehead or cheek, he would give himself a huge smack. But the second after, he heard the insect’s sing-song once more. After this it occurred to him to wrap his head round with his comforter, which considerably interfered with the pleasure of his respiratory organs, and did not prevent him from being stung on the chin.