"Cecily awaits me there."

"You shall not go--I hold you," said Polidori, seizing the notary by the
arm.

Jacques Ferrand, arrived at the last stage of weakness, could not struggle
against Polidori, who held him with a vigorous hand.

"You wish to prevent me from going to find Cecily?"

"Yes; and, besides, there is a lamp lighted in the next room; you know what
effect the light produced just now upon your sight!"

"Cecily is there; she awaits me. I would traverse a blazing furnace to join
her. Let me go. She told me I was her old tiger. Take care, my claws are
sharp."

"You shall not go. I will rather tie you on your bed as a madman."

"Polidori, listen; I am not mad--I have all my reason. I know very well
that Cecily is not materially there; but for me, the phantoms of my
imagination are worth more than realities."

"Silence!" cried Polidori, suddenly, listening; "just now I thought I heard
a carriage stop at the door. I was not mistaken. I hear now the sound of
voices in the court."

"You wish to distract my thoughts. The trick is too plain."