said, in a troubled voice; "but the night seems to me very appalling!"

A heavy groan from the notary attracted Polidori's attention. "He is
awaking from his torpor," he said, approaching his bed very quietly;
"perhaps another crisis may ensue!"

"Polidori!" muttered Jacques Ferrand, still extended on the bed, and
with his eyes closed. "Polidori, what noise was that?"

"A chimney that fell," replied Polidori, in a low voice, fearing to
strike too loudly on the hearing of his accomplice. "A fearful tempest
shakes the house to its foundation; it is a horrible night!"

The notary did not hear, and replied, turning away his head, "Polidori,
you are not there, then?"

"Yes, yes, I am here," said Polidori, in a louder voice; "but I answered
gently for fear of giving you pain."

"No; I hear you now without any pain such as I had just now, for then it
seemed as if the least noise burst like thunder on my brain. And yet in
the midst of it all,--of these horrible sufferings,--I distinguish the
thrilling voice of Cecily, who was calling to me--"

"Still that infernal woman! But drive away these thoughts,--they will
kill you."

"These thoughts are life to me, and, like my life, they resist all
tortures."

"Madman that you are, it is these thoughts that cause your tortures!
Your illness is your sensual frenzy, which has attained its utmost
height. Once again, drive from your brain these thoughts or you will
die."

"Drive away these thoughts!" cried Ferrand. "Oh, never, never! When my
pains give me one moment's repose, Cecily, the demon whom I cherish and
curse, rises before my eyes!"

"What incredible fury! It frightens me!"

"There,--now!" said the notary, with a harsh voice, and his eyes fixed
on a dark corner of the room. "I see now the outline of an obscure and
white form; there--there!" and he extended his hairy and bony finger in
the direction of his sight. "There,--there she is!"

"Jacques, this is death to you!"

"Yes, I see her!" continued Ferrand, with his teeth clenched, and not
replying to Polidori. "There she is! And how beautiful! How her black
hair floats gracefully down her shoulders, and her small white teeth,
shining between her half opened lips,--her lips so red and humid! What
pearls! And how her black eyes sparkle and die! Cecily," he added, with
inexpressible excitement, "I adore you!"

"Jacques, do not excite yourself with such visions!"

"It is not a vision."

"Mind, mind! Just now, yo