"But what proof can I give you at this moment?" cried the notary.
"You are but a fool, after all!" replied Cecily, retreating from the aperture with an air of disdain. "I was deceived,—I believed you capable of energetic devotion. Goodnight! It's a pity!"
"Cecily, do not leave me! Return! What can I do?"
"I was but too much disposed to listen to you; you will never have such another opportunity."
"But oh, tell me what you would have!" cried the notary, half mad.
"Eh! If you were as passionately in love as you say, you would find means to persuade me. Good night!"
"Cecily."
"I will shut the door, instead of opening it."
"Cecily,—listen! I will give you yet another proof of my devotion."
"What is this proof of your love?" said the creole, who, having approached the mantelpiece to resume her dagger, returned slowly towards the door, lighted by the flame of the hearth. Then, unobserved by the notary, she made sure of the action of an iron chain, which terminated in two small knobs, one of which was screwed into the door, and the other into the door-post.