stiletto of
Cecily, which I always carried about me. Await the effects of its
poison--Ah! You release me! Then now you are about to die! I was not to
be hindered from going up above to find Cecily!" added Jacques,
endeavouring to grope his way in darkness to the door.

"Oh," murmured Polidori, "my arm becomes benumbed--a deathlike coldness
seizes on me--my knees tremble under me--my blood freezes in my
veins--my head whirls around. Help, help! I die!" And he fainted.

The crash of glass doors, opened with so much violence that several
panes of glass were broken to atoms, the resounding voice of Rodolph,
and the noise of hastily approaching steps, seemed to reply to
Polidori's cry of anguish.

Jacques Ferrand having at length discovered the lock of the door, opened
it suddenly, with his dangerous stiletto in his hand. At the same
instant, as menacing and formidable as the genius of vengeance, the
prince entered the apartment from the other side.

"Monster!" he exclaimed, advancing towards Jacques Ferrand, "it was my
daughter whom you have killed! You are going--" The prince could not
conclude, but recoiled in amazement.

It would seem as if his words had been a thunderbolt to Ferrand, for,
casting away his dagger, and raising both his hands to his eyes, the
unhappy wretch fell with his face to the ground, uttering a cry that was
scarcely human.

To complete the phenomenon which we have attempted to describe, and the
action which profound obscurity had suspended, when Jacques Ferrand
entered the apartment so brilliantly lighted up, he was struck with an
overwhelming vertigo, just as though he had been suddenly cast into the
midst of a torrent of light as blazing as the disk of the sun. It was a
fearful spectacle to see the agony of this man, who was twisting in
convulsions, tearing the floor with his nails, as if he would have dug
himself a hole to escape from the atrocious tortures occasioned by this
powerful light. Rodolph, one of his servants, and the porter of the
house, who had been compelled to guide the prince hither, were struck
with horror.

In spite of his just hatred, Rodolph felt a pity for the unheard-of
sufferings of Jacques Ferrand, and desired that he should be laid on the
sofa. This was not effected without difficulty, for, from fear of being
subjected to the direst influence of the lamp, the notary struggled
violently; and when his face was covered with the full glare of the
light, he uttered a