m you. A few drops of your generous blood, more precious
and sovereign than all the elixirs of the world, have given
me back to life."

This scene gave me matter for much reflection, and put into
my head some strange thoughts as to Clarimonde. That very
evening, when sleep had transported me to my parsonage, I
found there Father Serapion, graver and more careworn than
ever. He looked at me attentively and said, "Not content
with destroying your soul, are you bent also on destroying
your body? Unhappy youth, into what snares have you fallen!"
The tone in which he said this struck me much at the time;
but, lively as the impression was, other thoughts soon drove
it from my mind. However, one evening, with the aid of a
glass, on whose tell-tale position Clarimonde had not
counted, I saw her pouring a powder into the cup of spiced
wine which she was wont to prepare after supper. I took the
cup, and, putting it to my lips, I set it down, as if
intending to finish it at leisure. But in reality I availed
myself of a minute when her back was turned to empty it
away, and I soon after went to bed, determined to remain
awake and see what would happen. I had not long to wait.
Clarimonde entered as soon as she had convinced herself that
I slept. She uncovered my arm and drew from her hair a
little gold pin; then she murmured under her breath, "Only
one drop, one little crimson drop, one ruby just to tip the
bodkin! As you love me still I must not die. Ah, poor love!
I am going to drink his blood, his beautiful blood, so
bright and so purple. Sleep, my only treasure; sleep, my
darling, my deity; I will do you no harm; I will only take
so much of your life as I need to save my own. Did I not
love you so much I might resolve to have other lovers, whose
veins I could drain; but since I have known you I hate all
others. Ah, dear arm, how round it is, and how white! How
shall I ever dare to pierce the sweet blue veins!" And while
she spoke she wept, so that I felt her tears rain on the arm
she held. At last she summoned courage; she pricked me
slightly with the bodkin and began to suck out the blood.
But she drank only a few drops, as if she feared to exhaust
me, and then carefully bound up my arm after anointing it
with an unguent which closed