"Chapter third!" enunciated Carolus in a voice that gave no signs of fatigue.
Rodolphe took a careful survey of Barbemuche and perceived that he had a short neck and a ruddy complexion. "I have one hope left," thought the poet on making this discovery. "He may have an attack of apoplexy."
"Will you be so good as to tell me what you think of the love scene?"
Carolus looked at Rodolphe to observe in his face what effect the dialogue produced upon him. The poet was bending forward on his chair, with his neck stretched out in the attitude of one who is listening for some distant sound.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Hist!" said Rodolphe, "don't you hear? I thought somebody cried fire! Suppose we go and see."
Carolus listened an instant but heard nothing.
"It must have been a ringing in my ears," said the other. "Go on, Don Alvar interests me exceedingly; he is a noble youth."
Carolus continued with all the music that he could put into his voice:
"Oh Inesilla! Whatever thou art, angel or demon; and whatever be thy country, my life is thine, and thee will follow, be it to heaven or hell!"