"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep here."
So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of responsibility in the events which followed.
Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The whole mountain was shrouded in silence.
It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from my meditation.
King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now wanted to go out. He was determined to go out.
"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!"
I tried to pull him away from the door.
I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw.
Then I sat down on the divan.
My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as this?"