Perhaps they were
strangling each other.
Sperver drew the keen blade of his hunting-knife. Sebalt did the same;
they preceded me down the gallery.
Then the fearful sounds became our guide to the sick man's room. Sperver
spoke no more; he hurried forward. Sebalt stretched his long legs. I felt
a shuddering horror creep through my whole frame--a horrible presentiment
of something shocking and abominable came over us.
As we approached the apartments of the count we met the whole household
afoot--the gamekeepers, the huntsmen, the kennel-keepers, the scullions
were all mingled and jostling each other, asking--
"What is the matter? Where are those cries coming from?"
Without stopping we ran into the passage which led into the count's
bedroom, where we met poor Marie Lagoutte, who alone had had the courage
to penetrate thither before us. She was holding in her arms the young
countess, who had fainted, her head falling back, her hair flowing down
behind her; she was carrying her away as fast as she could.
We passed her so rapidly that we scarcely had time to witness this sad
sight. But it has since returned to my memory, and the pale face of Odile
lying on the ample shoulders of the good servant still makes a vivid
impression upon my memory, resembling the poor lamb presenting its throat
to the knife without a complaint, dying with fear before the stroke
falls.
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