Cecily constantly appears."

"You have at least the consolation," said Polidori, resuming his usual
calmness, "of thinking upon the good that you have done in expiation of
your crimes."

"Yes, rail--you are right; turn me over on the burning coals. You know
well, wretch, that I hate humanity; you know well that these expiations
which are imposed upon me, only inspire me with hatred against those who
oblige me to act thus, and against those who profit by it. Thunder and
blood! To think that, while I drag along a frightful life, these men whom I
execrate have their misery solaced; that this widow and her daughter will
thank God for the fortune I restore them--that this Morel and his daughter
will live in ease and comfort--that this Germain will have an honorable
situation assured to him for life! And this priest! this priest, who
blessed me when my heart was swimming in gall and blood--I could have
stabbed him! Oh! it is too much! No! no!" he cried, covering his face with
his hands: "my head bursts--my ideas are confused--I cannot resist such
attacks of impotent rage! And all this for you! Cecily! Cecily! do you know
how much I suffer? do you know, Cecily--demon--brought up from below!"

Ferrand, exhausted by this frightful raving, fell back foaming on his
chair, and threw his arms wildly about, uttering hollow and inarticulate
sounds. This fit of convulsive and despairing rage by no means astonished
Polidori. Possessing a consummate medical experience, he at once saw that
Ferrand's anguish at seeing himself dispossessed of his fortune, joined to
his passion for Cecily, had lighted up the flames of a devouring fever.
Suddenly some one knocked hurriedly at the door of the cabinet.

"Jacques!" said Polidori, to the notary; "Jacques! recover yourself; here