Release me. Now. Or I throw myself off the balcony. I'm sure you can understand my position," he said. "So?" she asked. "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to kill myself. I've been thinking about it for a while. You've driven me to it, you know. I can't live with you." She thought about that for a moment. "All right," she said. "Let me make a deal with you." "What?" "I'll be your mistress, but that's it. And I'll get you your freedom. But on one condition: you have to agree to live here at the castle. Only here. For the rest of your life. I don't want you wandering around, looking for a job or something. I won't have it." "Then let me go," he said. "We'll see. Come back in three days. We'll meet here every day at twelve o'clock." She stood up and put her arms around his shoulders. "Oh, you're going to be a sweetie to me, aren't you?" she said. "It's all right, then." He did not reply. "You want me to be your mistress," she said. "Is that it?" He was silent. "Oh, I can just imagine it," she said. "You're such a wonderful man. You want the world to know what a wonderful man you are. That's it, isn't it?" "Let me go. Let me go. I'm not interested in your offers. I'm not interested in anything you've got to offer." She pulled back. "Oh, how dare you talk like that. You couldn't expect me to live with you, if you don't even want to live with me. You haven't even been honest with me. What kind of man are you?" "Let me go," he said. "I won't say anything to anybody. I'll never mention you. I swear. I swear I won't tell a soul." "That's not what I want." He stopped her by taking her hand. She held his hand tightly. "You've got it backwards. If you want me to live here, then I want to live here, too. I won't be your mistress, but I won't be a slave either. I won't hold you here for life. I want to be free. But I can't live here. I'm going. I'll be your wife. Is that all right? Is that what you want? Is that what you really want?" He stopped her by taking her other hand. He said: "Yes, I'll be your husband. You will be my wife." She wanted to be free. She did not want to be his mistress. She did not want to be his wife. She wanted to be free. She looked at him. "Then do what you want," she said. "Let me go." He released her hand and stepped back. "I can't do it," she said. "I'm not that sort of woman. It'll be your cross to bear. You'll be tied to me for the rest of your life." "You're not that sort of woman either," he said. "You're a nice, honest woman. Maybe you'll regret it. I've never had to struggle for anything. I don't know if I can endure it. How can I make you love me?" "You can't." "You'll remember it for the rest of your life." "All right, then," she said. He turned away and picked up his hat and put it on. "I'm not going to be a slave either," he said. "All right, let me go. I won't say a word." He left the room. She listened to the soft steps of his bare feet. She wanted to cry out. She wished he had remained. Then she thought: It's for the best. He'll be a slave, like me. He won't bother me. He'll be under my feet. We're slaves, both of us. She wanted to weep. She wanted to go to him. She stood up and picked up her hat and put it on. "What do you think you're doing?" he said. "You think you're going somewhere. You're going to your death. You won't get away from here." She came out of her room and crossed the corridor. He was watching her. "You're a murderer," he said. "You've murdered him." "How could you think he was mad?" she said. "Murderer. Murderer." She walked slowly, her chin raised. "Murderer. Murderer." She was walking faster. "Murderer. Murderer." She kept going. He tried to call her. "Stop. Murderer. Murderer." But she hurried on. "Murderer. Murderer. Murderer." She ran down the corridor. She was going to the bottom of the tower. He followed. She could hear the ringing of the watchman's bell, calling the hour. He pursued her. She rushed towards the entrance hall. "Stop, murderer," he shouted, but she couldn't hear him. She didn't stop. He saw his father in the entrance hall and called to him. He ran into the darkness. He looked for her. He didn't know where she was. He went and sat on his bed. He was still thinking: Murderer. Murderer. What a fool. He had always admired women. She'd be back in a moment. He'd have to make a decision, but she'd be back in a moment. She'd think of a new idea. She'd be back in a moment. He'd think about it. He'd take a long time about it. He'd think about it all evening, and he'd think about it all night, too. He'd think about it all evening. He'd think about it all night, too. She stopped at the top of the tower. She looked down. She couldn't see anything. She ran back up again. She was trembling all over. She got down on her knees and saw him: naked, and leaning against the corner of the tower, dead. He couldn't manage to call out. He was on his bed. He was sitting in his bed. He was thinking about everything. He was making a decision. He was making a decision. He didn't know what he was making. He picked up a book and read a line of it. It was an old book. It had paper, thin as a curtain, written by someone who knew how to write. It had been printed on paper that had survived since Roman times. It was a history of the castle. He read it through. He was astonished at what he read. He was amazed. He was astonished. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. He couldn't go. He couldn't move. He was so frightened he could not understand what was going on. He couldn't go. He could hardly think. He couldn't go. He couldn't go. His father was dying. His father was dying. He stood up. He put on his coat. He put on his hat. He picked up his cane. He was thinking: What a fool. What a fool I am. What a fool. What a fool. He was thinking: I'll walk across the grounds. I'll walk all around the castle. I'll walk from end to end of the grounds. I'll think of the way it'll be when he dies. I'll think of my decision. I'll tell you what my decision is. I'll tell you what my decision is. He was thinking. He was thinking. He was walking along the moat and through the grounds. He was making his decision. He walked until his feet hurt. Then he stopped. He was standing in the yard of the castle. He was standing in the yard of the castle. He didn't know what time it was. He hadn't thought. He hadn't thought about anything. He hadn't thought about anything. He was standing at the door of the keep. He was looking into his father's room. He was standing at the door. He was looking into his father's room. He was looking at him lying on his bed, and his father didn't move. He was still thinking about the history of the castle. It was then he felt faint. He was standing in the doorway of his room. He was looking at the bed. He was looking at his father. He was standing in the doorway. He was looking at the bed. He was looking at his father. He was looking at him lying on his bed. He couldn't move. He was standing in the doorway. He was looking at him lying on his bed. He was looking at him lying on his bed