"
"But, wretch, listen then--listen. Ah! do you not hear?"
"Let me go--Cecily is there--she calls me. Do not make me angry, in my
turn, I tell you. Take care--do you understand? take care."
"You shall not go out."
"Take care---"
"You shall not go out from here; it is my interest that you should remain."
"You prevent me from going to find Cecily; my interest wills that you
should die. Hold then!" said the notary, in a hollow voice.
Polidori uttered a cry.
"Scoundrel! you have stabbed me in the arm; but the wound is slight; you
shall not escape me."
"Your wound is mortal. It is the poisoned dagger of Cecily which has
stabbed you; I always carried it about me; await the effects of the poison.
Ah! you loosen your grasp; you are going to die. You should not have
hindered me from going to find Cecily," added Jacques Ferrand, feeling in
the dark for the door.
"Oh!" murmured Polidori, "my arm stiffens--a mortal coldness seizes me--my
knees tremble under me--my blood thickens in my veins--my head turns.
Help!" cried the accomplice of Ferrand, collecting all his strength for a
last cry; "help! I die!"
And he sunk under his own weight upon the floor. The crash of a glass door,
opened with so much violence that several panes were broken to pieces, the
ringing voice of Rudolph, and a noise of hasty footsteps, seemed to respond
to Polidori's cry of anguish.
Pages:
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321