eloquence or of pitiless logic; but what I saw at that moment was so
novel, and made such an impression on me, that my unruly and unbridled
imagination was carried away by the superstitious terrors of childhood.
He held out his hand, and I responded with more of terror than
affection. The sorcerer of Gazeau Tower hanging the bleeding owl above
my head had just risen before my eyes again.




XI

When I awoke on the morrow in a state of exhaustion, all the incidents
of the previous night appeared to me as a dream. I began to think that
Edmee's suggestion of becoming my wife had been a perfidious trick to
put off my hopes indefinitely; and, as to the sorcerer's words, I could
not recall them without a feeling of profound humiliation. Still, they
had produced their effect. My emotions had left traces which could never
be effaced. I was no longer the man of the day before, and never again
was I to be quite the man of Roche-Mauprat.

It was late, for not until morning had I attempted to make good my
sleepless night. I was still in bed when I heard the hoofs of M. de la
Marche's horse on the stones of the courtyard. Every day he used to come
at this hour; every day he used to see Edmee at the same time as myself;
and now, on this very day, this day when she had tried to persuade me to
reckon on her hand, he was going to see her before me, and to give his
soulless kiss to this hand that had been promised to myself. The
thought of it stirred up all my doubts again. How could Edmee endure his
attentions if she really meant to marry another man? Perhaps she dared