y as possible to the present trying scene, Rodolph
said to Louise:
"Proceed, my poor child, and let us have the remainder of this tissue of
horrors."
"Alas, sir! what you have heard is as nothing to that which follows.
When I perceived M. Ferrand by my side I uttered a cry of terror. My
first impulse was to rush from the room, but M. Ferrand forcibly
detained me; and I still felt so weak, so stupefied with the medicine
you speak of as having been mingled in my drink, that I was powerless as
an infant. 'Why do you wish to escape from me now?' inquired M. Ferrand,
with an air of surprise which filled me with dread. 'What fresh caprice
is this? Am I not here by your own free will and consent?' 'Oh, sir!'
exclaimed I, 'this is most shameful and unworthy, to take advantage of
my sleep to work my ruin; but my father shall know all!' Here my master
interrupted me by bursting into loud laughter. 'Upon my word, young
lady,' said he, 'you are very amusing. So you are going to say that I
availed myself of your being asleep to effect your undoing. But who do
you suppose will credit such a falsehood? It is now four in the morning,
and since ten o'clock last night I have been here. You must have slept
long and soundly not to have discovered my presence sooner. Come, come,
no more attempts at shyness, but confess the truth, that I came hither
with your perfect good-will and consent. You must be less capricious or
we shall not keep good friends, I fear. Your father is in my power. You
have no longer any cause to fly me. Be obedient to my wishes and we
shall do very well together; but resist me, and the consequences shall
fall heavily on you, and your family likewise.' 'I will tell my dear
father of your conduct,' sobbed I; 'he will avenge me, and the laws will
punish you.' M. Ferrand looked at me as though at a loss to comprehend
me. 'Why, you have lost your senses,' cried he; 'what, in Heaven's name,
can you tell your father? That you thought proper to invite me to your
bedroom? But, invent any tale you please, you will soon find what sort
of a reception it will meet with. Why, your father will not look at you,
much more believe you.' 'But you know,' cried I, 'you well know, sir, I
gave no permission for your being here. You are well aware you entered
my chamber without my knowledge, and are now here against my will.'
'Against your will! And is it possible you have the effrontery to utter
such a falsehood, to dare insinuate that I
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