ished to keep him in suspense, and he was
angry at himself for having permitted her to make a fool of him. Then
certain expressions, the impertinence of which had not struck him at
first, chilled him now. "Her nervous trick of laughing, which sometimes
caught her in public places," then her declaration that she did not need
his permission, nor even his person, in order to possess him, seemed to
him unbecoming, to say the least, and uncalled for, as he had not run
after her nor indeed made any advances to her at all.
"I will fix you," he said, "when I get some hold over you."
But in the calm awakening of this morning the spell of the woman had
relaxed. Resolutely he thought, "Keep two dates with her. This one
tonight at her house. It won't count, because nothing can be done. For I
intend neither to allow myself to be assaulted nor to attempt an
assault. I certainly have no desire to be caught by Chantelouve _in
flagrante delicto_, and probably get into a shooting scrape and be haled
into police court. Have her here once. If she does not yield then, why,
the matter is closed. She can go and tickle somebody else."
And he made a hearty breakfast, and sat down to his writing table and
ran over the scattered notes for his book.
"I had got," he said, glancing at his last chapter, "to where the
alchemic experiments and diabolic evocations have proved unavailing.
Prelati, Blanchet, all the sorcerers and sorcerers' helpers whom the
Marshal has about him, admit that to bring Satan to him Gilles must make
over his soul and body to the Devil or commit crimes.
"Gilles refuses to alienate his existence and sell his soul, but he
contemplates murder without any horror. This man, so brave on the
battlefield, so courageous when he accompanied Jeanne d'Arc, trembles
before the Devil and is afraid when he thinks of eternity and of Christ.
The same is true of his accomplices. He has made them swear on the
Testament to keep the secret of the confounding turpitudes which the
chateau conceals, and he can be sure that not one will violate the oath,
for, in the Middle Ages, the most reckless of freebooters would not
commit the inexpiable sin of deceiving God.
"At the same time that his alchemists abandon their unfruitful furnaces,
Gilles begins a course of systematic gluttony, and his flesh, set on
fire by the essences of inordinate potations and spiced dishes, seethes
in tumultuous eruption.
"Now, there are no women in the chateau.
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