第67章

"You love me! I am happy.What matters the rest?"At this moment the door of the alcove opened and Count Kostia appeared upon the threshold, terrible, threatening, his lips curling with a sinister smile.At this sight his daughter slowly raised her head, then took a few steps towards him, and for the first time dared to look that father in the face, who for so many years had held her bowed and shuddering under his iron hand.Then like a young lion with bristling mane, her hair floating in disorder upon her shoulders, her body quivering, her brows contracted, with flashing eyes and in a thrilling voice, she cried:

"Ah! it really is you then, sir!

"You are welcome.You here, great God! Truly these walls ought to be surprised to see you.Yes, hear me, deaf old walls: the man you see there upon the threshold is my father! Ah, tell me, would you not have divined it by the tenderness in his face, by that smile full of goodness playing about his lips?" And then she added:

"Unnatural father, do you remember yet that you once had a daughter? Search well, you will find her, perhaps, at the bottom of your memory.Very well! this daughter whom you killed, has just left her coffin, and he who resuscitated her is the man before you." Then more excitedly still: "Oh, how I love him, this divine man! and in loving him, obedient daughter that I am, what have Idone but execute your will? for was it not you yourself who one day threw me at his feet? I have remained there."At these words, exhausted by the excess of her emotion, her strength deserted her.She uttered a cry, closed her eyes, and sank down.Gilbert, however, had already sprang towards her; he raised her in his arms and laid her inanimate form in an armchair;then placing himself before her, made a rampart of his body.When he turned his eyes upon the Count again, he could not repress a shudder, for he fancied he saw the somnambulist.The features of Kostia Petrovitch were distorted, his eyes bloodshot, and his fixed and burning pupils seemed almost starting from their sockets.He bent down slowly and picked up the knife, after which he remained some time motionless without giving any signs of life except by passing his tongue several times over his lips, as if to assuage the thirst for blood which consumed him.At last he advanced, his head erect, his arm holding the knife suspended in the air, ready to strike.As he drew near, Gilbert recovered all his composure, and in a clear, strong voice, cried out:

"Count Leminof, control yourself, or you will lose your reason."And as the frightful phantom still advanced, he quickly uncovered his breast, and exclaimed in a still louder voice:

"Count Kostia, strike, here is my heart, but your blows will not reach me,--the specter of Morlof is between us."At these words the Count uttered a cry like a fallow deer, followed by a long and plaintive sigh.A terrible internal struggle followed; his brow contracted; the convulsive movements which agitated his body, and the flakes of foam which stood upon his lips, testified to the violence of the effort he was making.

Reason at length returned; his arms fell and the knife dropped, the muscles of his face relaxed, and his features by degrees resumed their natural expression.Then turning in the direction of the alcove, he called out:

"Ivan, come and take care of your young mistress, she has fainted."Ivan appeared.Who could describe the look which he threw upon Gilbert? Meanwhile the Count had reentered the alcove; but returned immediately with a candle, which he lighted quietly, and then, with an easy gesture, said to Gilbert:

"My dear sir, it seems to me we are in the way here.Be good enough to leave with me by the staircase; for please God, you do not return by the roof.If an accident should happen to you, the Byzantines and I would be inconsolable!"Gilbert was so constituted, that at this moment M.Leminof inspired him more with pity than anger.He obeyed, and preceding him a few steps, crossed the alcove and the vestibule and descended the stairs.When at the entrance of the corridor, he turned, and placing his back against the wall, said sadly:

"I have a few words to say to you!"

The Count, stopping upon the last step, leaned nonchalantly over the balustrade and answered, smiling: