"Oh! demon from hell: you alarm, yet attract me. You inspire me. What is, then, your power?"
"Listen again: before that a man had confided to me a hundred thousand crowns. I set a trap for him. I blew his brains out. I proved that he committed suicide, and I denied the deposit which his sister the Baroness de Fermont reclaimed. Now my life is at your mercy—open."
"Jacques, I adore you!" said the Creole, with warmth.
"Oh! come a thousand deaths, and I'd dare them!" cried the notary, in an intoxication impossible to describe. "Yes, you are right; were I young and charming, I should not experience this triumphant joy. The key! throw me the key! draw the bolt!"
The Creole took the key from the lock, and handed it to the notary through the wicket, saying, "Jacques, I am mad!"
"You are mine, at length!" cried he, with a savage roar, turning the key in the lock. But the door, fastened with a bolt, did not open.
"Come, my tiger! come," said Cecily, in an expiring voice.
"The bolt! the bolt!" cried Jacques Ferrand.
"But, if you deceive me," cried the Creole, suddenly, "if these secrets are an invention, to cajole me—-"
The notary remained for a moment, struck with stupor; he thought he had succeeded: this last difficulty raised his impatient fury to its climax.