And yet, in the midst of all this noise, of these
sufferings without name, I distinguished the voice of Cecily calling me."
"Always this infernal woman--always. But drive away these thoughts, they
will kill you."
"Drive them away!" cried Jacques Ferrand; "oh! never, never!"
"What mad fury! It alarms me."
"Hold, now," said the notary, in a husky voice, with his eyes fixed on an
obscure corner of the alcove. "I see already--like a living thing--a shape
appearing--there--there!"
And he pointed with his bony finger in the direction of the vision.
"Hush, be quiet, unhappy man!"
"Oh! there, there!"
"Jacques, it is death."
"Oh! I see her," added Ferrand, his teeth set. "There she is! how handsome
she is; how handsome! See her long black hair; it floats in disorder upon
her shoulders! And her small teeth, which are seen through her half-opened
lips: her lips so red and humid! What pearls! Oh! her large eyes seem in
turn to sparkle and die. Cecily! Cecily! I adore you!"
"Jacques," cried Polidori, alarmed, "do not excite yourself by these
phantoms."
"It is not a phantom."
"Take care; a short time ago, you know, you imagined also that you heard
the songs of this woman, and your hearing was suddenly affected by fearful
sufferings--take care!"
"Leave me," cried the notary, with impatience, "leave me! Of what use is
hearing, except to listen to her?--sight, except to see her?"
"But the tortures which ensue, miserable fool!"
The notary did not finish.
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