"You shall not go. The sight of her chamber will kill you."
"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."