Cammie V-3
Cammie V-3
Cammie V-3
The artist now produced it, with evident pride. It was quite beautiful;
he looked away, and to my surprise seemed but little struck by it, and
works, which his art had just brought into light and color, while I was
more and more lost in wonder the more I looked at the picture.
“Certainly, dear,” said he, smiling, “I’m very glad you think it so
like.
The young lady did not acknowledge this pretty speech, did not seem to
hear it. She was leaning back in her seat, her fine eyes under their
rapture.
“And now you can read quite plainly the name that is written in the
corner.
underneath A.D.
“Ah!” said the lady, languidly, “so am I, I think, a very long descent,
“None who bear the name, I believe. The family were ruined, I believe,
in some civil wars, long ago, but the ruins of the castle are only
moonlight!” She glanced through the hall door, which stood a little
open. “Suppose you take a little ramble round the court, and look down
She rose, and each with her arm about the other’s waist, we walked out
“And so you were thinking of the night I came here?” she almost
whispered.
“And you asked for the picture you think like me, to hang in your
room,” she murmured with a sigh, as she drew her arm closer about my
waist, and let her pretty head sink upon my shoulder. “How romantic you
“I am sure, Carmilla, you have been in love; that there is, at this
“I have been in love with no one, and never shall,” she whispered,
Shy and strange was the look with which she quickly hid her face in my
neck and hair, with tumultuous sighs, that seemed almost to sob, and
Her soft cheek was glowing against mine. “Darling, darling,” she
murmured, “I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so.”
She was gazing on me with eyes from which all fire, all meaning had
shiver; have I been dreaming? Let us come in. Come; come; come in.”
“You look ill, Carmilla; a little faint. You certainly must take some
wine,” I said.
“Yes. I will. I’m better now. I shall be quite well in a few minutes.
door.
“Let us look again for a moment; it is the last time, perhaps, I shall
“How do you feel now, dear Carmilla? Are you really better?” I asked.
I was beginning to take alarm, lest she should have been stricken with
the strange epidemic that they said had invaded the country about us.
very skilful doctor near us, the physician who was with papa today.”
“I’m sure he is. I know how kind you all are; but, dear child, I am
quite well again. There is nothing ever wrong with me, but a little
weakness.
walk as far as a child of three years old: and every now and then the
little strength I have falters, and I become as you have just seen me.
animated she was; and the remainder of that evening passed without any
recurrence of what I called her infatuations. I mean her crazy talk and
But there occurred that night an event which gave my thoughts quite a
new turn, and seemed to startle even Carmilla’s languid nature into
momentary energy.
VII.
Descending
It would be vain my attempting to tell you the horror with which, even
communicated itself to the room and the very furniture that had
I could not bear next day to be alone for a moment. I should have told
papa, but for two opposite reasons. At one time I thought he would
laugh at my story, and I could not bear its being treated as a jest;
and at another I thought he might fancy that I had been attacked by the
no misgiving of the kind, and as he had been rather an invalid for some
perceived that I was out of spirits and nervous, and at length I told
anxious.
“Martin says that he came up twice, when the old yard gate was being
repaired, before sunrise, and twice saw the same female figure walking
“So he well might, as long as there are cows to milk in the river
“You must not say a word about it to Carmilla, because she can see down
that walk from her room window,” I interposed, “and she is, if
possible, a greater coward than I.”
“and I am sure I should have seen something dreadful if it had not been
for that charm I bought from the poor little hunchback whom I called
such hard names. I had a dream of something black coming round my bed,
seconds, I saw a dark figure near the chimneypiece, but I felt under my
pillow for my charm, and the moment my fingers touched it, the figure
disappeared, and I felt quite certain, only that I had it by me, that
“And had you the charm near you?” she asked, earnestly.
“No, I had dropped it into a china vase in the drawing room, but I
it.”
fell asleep almost immediately, and slept even more soundly than usual
all night.
“Well, I told you so,” said Carmilla, when I described my quiet sleep,
“I had such delightful sleep myself last night; I pinned the charm to
the breast of my nightdress. It was too far away the night before. I am
quite sure it was all fancy, except the dreams. I used to think that
evil spirits made dreams, but our doctor told me it is no such thing.
Only a fever passing by, or some other malady, as they often do, he
said, knocks at the door, and not being able to get in, passes on, with
that alarm.”
“Certainly; you don’t suppose that evil spirits are frightened by bits
wandering in the air, begin by trying the nerves, and so infect the
brain, but before they can seize upon you, the antidote repels them.
That I am sure is what the charm has done for us. It is nothing
I should have been happier if I could have quite agreed with Carmilla,
but I did my best, and the impression was a little losing its force.
For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the
same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a
that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open,
and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not
unwelcome, possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this
I would not admit that I was ill, I would not consent to tell my papa,
Carmilla became more devoted to me than ever, and her strange paroxysms
increasing ardor the more my strength and spirits waned. This always
point, when gradually a sense of the horrible mingled itself with it,
The first change I experienced was rather agreeable. It was very near
in bathing, when we move against the current of a river. This was soon
I could never recollect their scenery and persons, or any one connected
portion of their action. But they left an awful impression, and a sense
been in a place very nearly dark, and of having spoken to people whom I
could not see; and especially of one clear voice, of a female’s, very
came a sensation as if a hand was drawn softly along my cheek and neck.
Sometimes it was as if warm lips kissed me, and longer and longer and
more lovingly as they reached my throat, but there the caress fixed
itself. My heart beat faster, my breathing rose and fell rapidly and
state.
My sufferings had, during the last week, told upon my appearance. I had
grown pale, my eyes were dilated and darkened underneath, and the
countenance.
It could not be that terrible complaint which the peasants called the
oupire, for I had now been suffering for three weeks, and they were
seldom ill for much more than three days, when death put an end to
their miseries.
discovery.
One night, instead of the voice I was accustomed to hear in the dark, I
heard one, sweet and tender, and at the same time terrible, which said,
“Your mother warns you to beware of the assassin.” At the same time a
light unexpectedly sprang up, and I saw Carmilla, standing, near the
foot of my bed, in her white nightdress, bathed, from her chin to her
I wakened with a shriek, possessed with the one idea that Carmilla was
lamp burned always on the lobby, and seeing me, they soon learned the
cause of my terror.
unanswered.
It soon became a pounding and an uproar. We shrieked her name, but all
was vain.
We all grew frightened, for the door was locked. We hurried back, in
father’s room had been at that side of the house, we would have called
him up at once to our aid. But, alas! he was quite out of hearing, and
summons at Carmilla’s door, I ordered the men to force the lock. They
did so, and we stood, holding our lights aloft, in the doorway, and so
We called her by name; but there was still no reply. We looked round
which I had left it on bidding her good night. But Carmilla was gone.