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Chapter 56 CAPTIVITY: THE FIFTH DAY

  • Milady had however achieved a half-triumph, and success doubled her forces.
  • It was not difficult to conquer, as she had hitherto done, men prompt to le_hemselves be seduced, and whom the gallant education of a court led quickl_nto her net. Milady was handsome enough not to find much resistance on th_art of the flesh, and she was sufficiently skillful to prevail over all th_bstacles of the mind.
  • But this time she had to contend with an unpolished nature, concentrated an_nsensible by force of austerity. Religion and its observances had made Felto_ man inaccessible to ordinary seductions. There fermented in that sublimate_rain plans so vast, projects so tumultuous, that there remained no room fo_ny capricious or material love—that sentiment which is fed by leisure an_rows with corruption. Milady had, then, made a breach by her false virtue i_he opinion of a man horribly prejudiced against her, and by her beauty in th_eart of a man hitherto chaste and pure. In short, she had taken the measur_f motives hitherto unknown to herself, through this experiment, made upon th_ost rebellious subject that nature and religion could submit to her study.
  • Many a time, nevertheless, during the evening she despaired of fate and o_erself. She did not invoke God, we very well know, but she had faith in th_enius of evil—that immense sovereignty which reigns in all the details o_uman life, and by which, as in the Arabian fable, a single pomegranate see_s sufficient to reconstruct a ruined world.
  • Milady, being well prepared for the reception of Felton, was able to erect he_atteries for the next day. She knew she had only two days left; that whe_nce the order was signed by Buckingham—and Buckingham would sign it the mor_eadily from its bearing a false name, and he could not, therefore, recogniz_he woman in question—once this order was signed, we say, the baron would mak_er embark immediately, and she knew very well that women condemned to exil_mploy arms much less powerful in their seductions than the pretendedl_irtuous woman whose beauty is lighted by the sun of the world, whose styl_he voice of fashion lauds, and whom a halo of aristocracy gilds wit_nchanting splendors. To be a woman condemned to a painful and disgracefu_unishment is no impediment to beauty, but it is an obstacle to the recover_f power. Like all persons of real genius, Milady knew what suited her natur_nd her means. Poverty was repugnant to her; degradation took away two-third_f her greatness. Milady was only a queen while among queens. The pleasure o_atisfied pride was necessary to her domination. To command inferior being_as rather a humiliation than a pleasure for her.
  • She should certainly return from her exile—she did not doubt that a singl_nstant; but how long might this exile last? For an active, ambitious nature, like that of Milady, days not spent in climbing are inauspicious days. Wha_ord, then, can be found to describe the days which they occupy in descending?
  • To lose a year, two years, three years, is to talk of an eternity; to retur_fter the death or disgrace of the cardinal, perhaps; to return whe_'Artagnan and his friends, happy and triumphant, should have received fro_he queen the reward they had well acquired by the services they had rendere_er—these were devouring ideas that a woman like Milady could not endure. Fo_he rest, the storm which raged within her doubled her strength, and she woul_ave burst the walls of her prison if her body had been able to take for _ingle instant the proportions of her mind.
  • Then that which spurred her on additionally in the midst of all this was th_emembrance of the cardinal. What must the mistrustful, restless, suspiciou_ardinal think of her silence—the cardinal, not merely her only support, he_nly prop, her only protector at present, but still further, the principa_nstrument of her future fortune and vengeance? She knew him; she knew that a_er return from a fruitless journey it would be in vain to tell him of he_mprisonment, in vain to enlarge upon the sufferings she had undergone. Th_ardinal would reply, with the sarcastic calmness of the skeptic, strong a_nce by power and genius, "You should not have allowed yourself to be taken."
  • Then Milady collected all her energies, murmuring in the depths of her sou_he name of Felton—the only beam of light that penetrated to her in the hel_nto which she had fallen; and like a serpent which folds and unfolds it_ings to ascertain its strength, she enveloped Felton beforehand in th_housand meshes of her inventive imagination.
  • Time, however, passed away; the hours, one after another, seemed to awaken th_lock as they passed, and every blow of the brass hammer resounded upon th_eart of the prisoner. At nine o'clock, Lord de Winter made his customar_isit, examined the window and the bars, sounded the floor and the walls, looked to the chimney and the doors, without, during this long and minut_xamination, he or Milady pronouncing a single word.
  • Doubtless both of them understood that the situation had become too serious t_ose time in useless words and aimless wrath.
  • "Well," said the baron, on leaving her "you will not escape tonight!"
  • At ten o'clock Felton came and placed the sentinel. Milady recognized hi_tep. She was as well acquainted with it now as a mistress is with that of th_over of her heart; and yet Milady at the same time detested and despised thi_eak fanatic.
  • That was not the appointed hour. Felton did not enter.
  • Two hours after, as midnight sounded, the sentinel was relieved. This time i_AS the hour, and from this moment Milady waited with impatience. The ne_entinel commenced his walk in the corridor. At the expiration of ten minute_elton came.
  • Milady was all attention.
  • "Listen," said the young man to the sentinel. "On no pretense leave the door, for you know that last night my Lord punished a soldier for having quit hi_ost for an instant, although I, during his absence, watched in his place."
  • "Yes, I know it," said the soldier.
  • "I recommend you therefore to keep the strictest watch. For my part I am goin_o pay a second visit to this woman, who I fear entertains sinister intention_pon her own life, and I have received orders to watch her."
  • "Good!" murmured Milady; "the austere Puritan lies."
  • As to the soldier, he only smiled.
  • "Zounds, Lieutenant!" said he; "you are not unlucky in being charged with suc_ommissions, particularly if my Lord has authorized you to look into her bed."
  • Felton blushed. Under any other circumstances he would have reprimanded th_oldier for indulging in such pleasantry, but his conscience murmured too lou_or his mouth to dare speak.
  • "If I call, come," said he. "If anyone comes, call me."
  • "I will, Lieutenant," said the soldier.
  • Felton entered Milady's apartment. Milady arose.
  • "You are here!" said she.
  • "I promised to come," said Felton, "and I have come."
  • "You promised me something else."
  • "What, my God!" said the young man, who in spite of his self-command felt hi_nees tremble and the sweat start from his brow.
  • "You promised to bring a knife, and to leave it with me after our interview."
  • "Say no more of that, madame," said Felton. "There is no situation, howeve_errible it may be, which can authorize a creature of God to inflict deat_pon himself. I have reflected, and I cannot, must not be guilty of such _in."
  • "Ah, you have reflected!" said the prisoner, sitting down in her armchair, with a smile of disdain; "and I also have reflected."
  • "Upon what?"
  • "That I can have nothing to say to a man who does not keep his word."
  • "Oh, my God!" murmured Felton.
  • "You may retire," said Milady. "I will not talk."
  • "Here is the knife," said Felton, drawing from his pocket the weapon which h_ad brought, according to his promise, but which he hesitated to give to hi_risoner.
  • "Let me see it," said Milady.
  • "For what purpose?"
  • "Upon my honor, I will instantly return it to you. You shall place it on tha_able, and you may remain between it and me."
  • Felton offered the weapon to Milady, who examined the temper of i_ttentively, and who tried the point on the tip of her finger.
  • "Well," said she, returning the knife to the young officer, "this is fine an_ood steel. You are a faithful friend, Felton."
  • Felton took back the weapon, and laid it upon the table, as he had agreed wit_he prisoner.
  • Milady followed him with her eyes, and made a gesture of satisfaction.
  • "Now," said she, "listen to me."
  • The request was needless. The young officer stood upright before her, awaitin_er words as if to devour them.
  • "Felton," said Milady, with a solemnity full of melancholy, "imagine that you_ister, the daughter of your father, speaks to you. While yet young, unfortunately handsome, I was dragged into a snare. I resisted. Ambushes an_iolences multiplied around me, but I resisted. The religion I serve, the Go_ adore, were blasphemed because I called upon that religion and that God, bu_till I resisted. Then outrages were heaped upon me, and as my soul was no_ubdued they wished to defile my body forever. Finally—"
  • Milady stopped, and a bitter smile passed over her lips.
  • "Finally," said Felton, "finally, what did they do?"
  • "At length, one evening my enemy resolved to paralyze the resistance he coul_ot conquer. One evening he mixed a powerful narcotic with my water. Scarcel_ad I finished my repast, when I felt myself sink by degrees into a strang_orpor. Although I was without mistrust, a vague fear seized me, and I trie_o struggle against sleepiness. I arose. I wished to run to the window an_all for help, but my legs refused their office. It appeared as if the ceilin_ank upon my head and crushed me with its weight. I stretched out my arms. _ried to speak. I could only utter inarticulate sounds, and irresistibl_aintness came over me. I supported myself by a chair, feeling that I wa_bout to fall, but this support was soon insufficient on account of my wea_rms. I fell upon one knee, then upon both. I tried to pray, but my tongue wa_rozen. God doubtless neither heard nor saw me, and I sank upon the floor _rey to a slumber which resembled death.
  • "Of all that passed in that sleep, or the time which glided away while i_asted, I have no remembrance. The only thing I recollect is that I awoke i_ed in a round chamber, the furniture of which was sumptuous, and into whic_ight only penetrated by an opening in the ceiling. No door gave entrance t_he room. It might be called a magnificent prison.
  • "It was a long time before I was able to make out what place I was in, or t_ake account of the details I describe. My mind appeared to strive in vain t_hake off the heavy darkness of the sleep from which I could not rouse myself.
  • I had vague perceptions of space traversed, of the rolling of a carriage, of _orrible dream in which my strength had become exhausted; but all this was s_ark and so indistinct in my mind that these events seemed to belong t_nother life than mine, and yet mixed with mine in fantastic duality.
  • "At times the state into which I had fallen appeared so strange that _elieved myself dreaming. I arose trembling. My clothes were near me on _hair; I neither remembered having undressed myself nor going to bed. Then b_egrees the reality broke upon me, full of chaste terrors. I was no longer i_he house where I had dwelt. As well as I could judge by the light of the sun, the day was already two-thirds gone. It was the evening before when I ha_allen asleep; my sleep, then, must have lasted twenty-four hours! What ha_aken place during this long sleep?
  • "I dressed myself as quickly as possible; my slow and stiff motions al_ttested that the effects of the narcotic were not yet entirely dissipated.
  • The chamber was evidently furnished for the reception of a woman; and the mos_inished coquette could not have formed a wish, but on casting her eyes abou_he apartment, she would have found that wish accomplished.
  • "Certainly I was not the first captive that had been shut up in this splendi_rison; but you may easily comprehend, Felton, that the more superb th_rison, the greater was my terror.
  • "Yes, it was a prison, for I tried in vain to get out of it. I sounded all th_alls, in the hopes of discovering a door, but everywhere the walls returned _ull and flat sound.
  • "I made the tour of the room at least twenty times, in search of an outlet o_ome kind; but there was none. I sank exhausted with fatigue and terror int_n armchair.
  • "Meantime, night came on rapidly, and with night my terrors increased. I di_ot know but I had better remain where I was seated. It appeared that I wa_urrounded with unknown dangers into which I was about to fall at ever_nstant. Although I had eaten nothing since the evening before, my fear_revented my feeling hunger.
  • "No noise from without by which I could measure the time reached me; I onl_upposed it must be seven or eight o'clock in the evening, for it was in th_onth of October and it was quite dark.
  • "All at once the noise of a door, turning on its hinges, made me start. _lobe of fire appeared above the glazed opening of the ceiling, casting _trong light into my chamber; and I perceived with terror that a man wa_tanding within a few paces of me.
  • "A table, with two covers, bearing a supper ready prepared, stood, as if b_agic, in the middle of the apartment.
  • "That man was he who had pursued me during a whole year, who had vowed m_ishonor, and who, by the first words that issued from his mouth, gave me t_nderstand he had accomplished it the preceding night."
  • "Scoundrel!" murmured Felton.
  • "Oh, yes, scoundrel!" cried Milady, seeing the interest which the youn_fficer, whose soul seemed to hang on her lips, took in this strange recital.
  • "Oh, yes, scoundrel! He believed, having triumphed over me in my sleep, tha_ll was completed. He came, hoping that I would accept my shame, as my sham_as consummated; he came to offer his fortune in exchange for my love.
  • "All that the heart of a woman could contain of haughty contempt an_isdainful words, I poured out upon this man. Doubtless he was accustomed t_uch reproaches, for he listened to me calm and smiling, with his arms crosse_ver his breast. Then, when he thought I had said all, he advanced toward me; I sprang toward the table, I seized a knife, I placed it to my breast.
  • "Take one step more," said I, "and in addition to my dishonor, you shall hav_y death to reproach yourself with."
  • "There was, no doubt, in my look, my voice, my whole person, that sincerity o_esture, of attitude, of accent, which carries conviction to the most pervers_inds, for he paused.
  • "'Your death?' said he; 'oh, no, you are too charming a mistress to allow m_o consent to lose you thus, after I have had the happiness to possess yo_nly a single time. Adieu, my charmer; I will wait to pay you my next visi_ill you are in a better humor.'
  • "At these words he blew a whistle; the globe of fire which lighted the roo_eascended and disappeared. I found myself again in complete darkness. Th_ame noise of a door opening and shutting was repeated the instant afterward; the flaming globe descended afresh, and I was completely alone.
  • "This moment was frightful; if I had any doubts as to my misfortune, thes_oubts had vanished in an overwhelming reality. I was in the power of a ma_hom I not only detested, but despised—of a man capable of anything, and wh_ad already given me a fatal proof of what he was able to do."
  • "But who, then was this man?" asked Felton.
  • "I passed the night on a chair, starting at the least noise, for towar_idnight the lamp went out, and I was again in darkness. But the night passe_way without any fresh attempt on the part of my persecutor. Day came; th_able had disappeared, only I had still the knife in my hand.
  • "This knife was my only hope.
  • "I was worn out with fatigue. Sleeplessness inflamed my eyes; I had not dare_o sleep a single instant. The light of day reassured me; I went and thre_yself on the bed, without parting with the emancipating knife, which _oncealed under my pillow.
  • "When I awoke, a fresh meal was served.
  • "This time, in spite of my terrors, in spite of my agony, I began to feel _evouring hunger. It was forty-eight hours since I had taken any nourishment.
  • I ate some bread and some fruit; then, remembering the narcotic mixed with th_ater I had drunk, I would not touch that which was placed on the table, bu_illed my glass at a marble fountain fixed in the wall over my dressing table.
  • "And yet, notwithstanding these precautions, I remained for some time in _errible agitation of mind. But my fears were this time ill-founded; I passe_he day without experiencing anything of the kind I dreaded.
  • "I took the precaution to half empty the carafe, in order that my suspicion_ight not be noticed.
  • "The evening came on, and with it darkness; but however profound was thi_arkness, my eyes began to accustom themselves to it. I saw, amid the shadows, the table sink through the floor; a quarter of an hour later it reappeared, bearing my supper. In an instant, thanks to the lamp, my chamber was once mor_ighted.
  • "I was determined to eat only such things as could not possibly have anythin_oporific introduced into them. Two eggs and some fruit composed my repast; then I drew another glass of water from my protecting fountain, and drank it.
  • "At the first swallow, it appeared to me not to have the same taste as in th_orning. Suspicion instantly seized me. I paused, but I had already drunk hal_ glass.
  • "I threw the rest away with horror, and waited, with the dew of fear upon m_row.
  • "No doubt some invisible witness had seen me draw the water from tha_ountain, and had taken advantage of my confidence in it, the better to assur_y ruin, so coolly resolved upon, so cruelly pursued.
  • "Half an hour had not passed when the same symptoms began to appear; but as _ad only drunk half a glass of the water, I contended longer, and instead o_alling entirely asleep, I sank into a state of drowsiness which left me _erception of what was passing around me, while depriving me of the strengt_ither to defend myself or to fly.
  • "I dragged myself toward the bed, to seek the only defense I had left—m_aving knife; but I could not reach the bolster. I sank on my knees, my hand_lasped round one of the bedposts; then I felt that I was lost."
  • Felton became frightfully pale, and a convulsive tremor crept through hi_hole body.
  • "And what was most frightful," continued Milady, her voice altered, as if sh_till experienced the same agony as at that awful minute, "was that at thi_ime I retained a consciousness of the danger that threatened me; was that m_oul, if I may say so, waked in my sleeping body; was that I saw, that _eard. It is true that all was like a dream, but it was not the les_rightful.
  • "I saw the lamp ascend, and leave me in darkness; then I heard the well-know_reaking of the door although I had heard that door open but twice.
  • "I felt instinctively that someone approached me; it is said that the doome_retch in the deserts of America thus feels the approach of the serpent.
  • "I wished to make an effort; I attempted to cry out. By an incredible effor_f will I even raised myself up, but only to sink down again immediately, an_o fall into the arms of my persecutor."
  • "Tell me who this man was!" cried the young officer.
  • Milady saw at a single glance all the painful feelings she inspired in Felto_y dwelling on every detail of her recital; but she would not spare him _ingle pang. The more profoundly she wounded his heart, the more certainly h_ould avenge her. She continued, then, as if she had not heard hi_xclamation, or as if she thought the moment was not yet come to reply to it.
  • "Only this time it was no longer an inert body, without feeling, that th_illain had to deal with. I have told you that without being able to regai_he complete exercise of my faculties, I retained the sense of my danger. _truggled, then, with all my strength, and doubtless opposed, weak as I was, _ong resistance, for I heard him cry out, 'These miserable Puritans! I kne_ery well that they tired out their executioners, but I did not believe the_o strong against their lovers!'
  • "Alas! this desperate resistance could not last long. I felt my strength fail, and this time it was not my sleep that enabled the coward to prevail, but m_woon."
  • Felton listened without uttering any word or sound, except an inwar_xpression of agony. The sweat streamed down his marble forehead, and hi_and, under his coat, tore his breast.
  • "My first impulse, on coming to myself, was to feel under my pillow for th_nife I had not been able to reach; if it had not been useful for defense, i_ight at least serve for expiation.
  • "But on taking this knife, Felton, a terrible idea occurred to me. I hav_worn to tell you all, and I will tell you all. I have promised you the truth; I will tell it, were it to destroy me."
  • "The idea came into your mind to avenge yourself on this man, did it not?"
  • cried Felton.
  • "Yes," said Milady. "The idea was not that of a Christian, I knew; but withou_oubt, that eternal enemy of our souls, that lion roaring constantly aroun_s, breathed it into my mind. In short, what shall I say to you, Felton?"
  • continued Milady, in the tone of a woman accusing herself of a crime. "Thi_dea occurred to me, and did not leave me; it is of this homicidal though_hat I now bear the punishment."
  • "Continue, continue!" said Felton; "I am eager to see you attain you_engeance!"
  • "Oh, I resolved that it should take place as soon as possible. I had no doub_e would return the following night. During the day I had nothing to fear.
  • "When the hour of breakfast came, therefore, I did not hesitate to eat an_rink. I had determined to make believe sup, but to eat nothing. I was forced, then, to combat the fast of the evening with the nourishment of the morning.
  • "Only I concealed a glass of water, which remained after my breakfast, thirs_aving been the chief of my sufferings when I remained forty-eight hour_ithout eating or drinking.
  • "The day passed away without having any other influence on me than t_trengthen the resolution I had formed; only I took care that my face shoul_ot betray the thoughts of my heart, for I had no doubt I was watched. Severa_imes, even, I felt a smile on my lips. Felton, I dare not tell you at wha_dea I smiled; you would hold me in horror—"
  • "Go on! go on!" said Felton; "you see plainly that I listen, and that I a_nxious to know the end."
  • "Evening came; the ordinary events took place. During the darkness, as before, my supper was brought. Then the lamp was lighted, and I sat down to table. _nly ate some fruit. I pretended to pour out water from the jug, but I onl_rank that which I had saved in my glass. The substitution was made s_arefully that my spies, if I had any, could have no suspicion of it.
  • "After supper I exhibited the same marks of languor as on the precedin_vening; but this time, as I yielded to fatigue, or as if I had becom_amiliarized with danger, I dragged myself toward my bed, let my robe fall, and lay down.
  • "I found my knife where I had placed it, under my pillow, and while feignin_o sleep, my hand grasped the handle of it convulsively.
  • "Two hours passed away without anything fresh happening. Oh, my God! who coul_ave said so the evening before? I began to fear that he would not come.
  • "At length I saw the lamp rise softly, and disappear in the depths of th_eiling; my chamber was filled with darkness and obscurity, but I made _trong effort to penetrate this darkness and obscurity.
  • "Nearly ten minutes passed; I heard no other noise but the beating of my ow_eart. I implored heaven that he might come.
  • "At length I heard the well-known noise of the door, which opened and shut; _eard, notwithstanding the thickness of the carpet, a step which made th_loor creak; I saw, notwithstanding the darkness, a shadow which approached m_ed."
  • "Haste! haste!" said Felton; "do you not see that each of your words burns m_ike molten lead?"
  • "Then," continued Milady, "then I collected all my strength; I recalled to m_ind that the moment of vengeance, or rather, of justice, had struck. I looke_pon myself as another Judith; I gathered myself up, my knife in my hand, an_hen I saw him near me, stretching out his arms to find his victim, then, wit_he last cry of agony and despair, I struck him in the middle of his breast.
  • "The miserable villain! He had foreseen all. His breast was covered with _oat-of-mail; the knife was bent against it.
  • "'Ah, ah!' cried he, seizing my arm, and wresting from me the weapon that ha_o badly served me, 'you want to take my life, do you, my pretty Puritan? Bu_hat's more than dislike, that's ingratitude! Come, come, calm yourself, m_weet girl! I thought you had softened. I am not one of those tyrants wh_etain women by force. You don't love me. With my usual fatuity I doubted it; now I am convinced. Tomorrow you shall be free.'
  • "I had but one wish; that was that he should kill me.
  • "'Beware!' said I, 'for my liberty is your dishonor.'
  • "'Explain yourself, my pretty sibyl!'
  • "'Yes; for as soon as I leave this place I will tell everything. I wil_roclaim the violence you have used toward me. I will describe my captivity. _ill denounce this place of infamy. You are placed on high, my Lord, bu_remble! Above you there is the king; above the king there is God!'
  • "However perfect master he was over himself, my persecutor allowed a movemen_f anger to escape him. I could not see the expression of his countenance, bu_ felt the arm tremble upon which my hand was placed.
  • "'Then you shall not leave this place,' said he.
  • "'Very well,' cried I, 'then the place of my punishment will be that of m_omb. I will die here, and you will see if a phantom that accuses is not mor_errible than a living being that threatens!'
  • "'You shall have no weapon left in your power.'
  • "'There is a weapon which despair has placed within the reach of ever_reature who has the courage to use it. I will allow myself to die wit_unger.'
  • "'Come,' said the wretch, 'is not peace much better than such a war as that? _ill restore you to liberty this moment; I will proclaim you a piece o_mmaculate virtue; I will name you the Lucretia of England.'
  • "'And I will say that you are the Sextus. I will denounce you before men, as _ave denounced you before God; and if it be necessary that, like Lucretia, _hould sign my accusation with my blood, I will sign it.'
  • "'Ah!' said my enemy, in a jeering tone, 'that's quite another thing. M_aith! everything considered, you are very well off here. You shall want fo_othing, and if you let yourself die of hunger that will be your own fault.'
  • "At these words he retired. I heard the door open and shut, and I remaine_verwhelmed, less, I confess it, by my grief than by the mortification of no_aving avenged myself.
  • "He kept his word. All the day, all the next night passed away without m_eeing him again. But I also kept my word with him, and I neither ate no_rank. I was, as I told him, resolved to die of hunger.
  • "I passed the day and the night in prayer, for I hoped that God would pardo_e my suicide.
  • "The second night the door opened; I was lying on the floor, for my strengt_egan to abandon me.
  • "At the noise I raised myself up on one hand.
  • "'Well,' said a voice which vibrated in too terrible a manner in my ear not t_e recognized, 'well! Are we softened a little? Will we not pay for ou_iberty with a single promise of silence? Come, I am a good sort of a prince,'
  • added he, 'and although I like not Puritans I do them justice; and it is th_ame with Puritanesses, when they are pretty. Come, take a little oath for m_n the cross; I won't ask anything more of you.'
  • "'On the cross,' cried I, rising, for at that abhorred voice I had recovere_ll my strength, 'on the cross I swear that no promise, no menace, no force, no torture, shall close my mouth! On the cross I swear to denounce yo_verywhere as a murderer, as a thief of honor, as a base coward! On the cros_ swear, if I ever leave this place, to call down vengeance upon you from th_hole human race!'
  • "'Beware!' said the voice, in a threatening accent that I had never yet heard.
  • 'I have an extraordinary means which I will not employ but in the las_xtremity to close your mouth, or at least to prevent anyone from believing _ord you may utter.'
  • "I mustered all my strength to reply to him with a burst of laughter.
  • "He saw that it was a merciless war between us—a war to the death.
  • "'Listen!' said he. 'I give you the rest of tonight and all day tomorrow.
  • Reflect: promise to be silent, and riches, consideration, even honor, shal_urround you; threaten to speak, and I will condemn you to infamy.'
  • "'You?' cried I. 'You?'
  • "'To interminable, ineffaceable infamy!'
  • "'You?' repeated I. Oh, I declare to you, Felton, I thought him mad!
  • "'Yes, yes, I!' replied he.
  • "'Oh, leave me!' said I. 'Begone, if you do not desire to see me dash my hea_gainst that wall before your eyes!'
  • "'Very well, it is your own doing. Till tomorrow evening, then!'
  • "'Till tomorrow evening, then!' replied I, allowing myself to fall, and bitin_he carpet with rage."
  • Felton leaned for support upon a piece of furniture; and Milady saw, with th_oy of a demon, that his strength would fail him perhaps before the end of he_ecital.