He
was resolved to kill Albert de Commarin.
During the rest of the night he became all the more determined in this
resolution, demonstrating to himself by a thousand mad reasons, which he
found solid and inscrutable, the necessity for and the justifiableness
of this vengeance.
At seven o'clock in the morning, he found himself in an avenue of the
Bois de Boulogne, not far from the lake. He made at once for the Porte
Maillot, procured a cab, and was driven to his house.
The delirium of the night continued, but without suffering. He was
conscious of no fatigue. Calm and cool, he acted under the power of an
hallucination, almost like a somnambulist.
He reflected and reasoned, but without his reason. As soon as he arrived
home he dressed himself with care, as was his custom formerly when
visiting the Marchioness d'Arlange, and went out. He first called at an
armourer's and bought a small revolver, which he caused to be carefully
loaded under his own eyes, and put it into his pocket. He then called on
the different persons he supposed capable of informing him to what club
the viscount belonged. No one noticed the strange state of his mind, so
natural were his manners and conversations.
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