“So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are many labours to me; but you will sleep, I pray.”
A woman threw herself at the castle doors last night. She was screaming for the return of her baby, calling the Count a monster.
You know that howling noise I had complained about earlier? It seems the Count had been right, as the woman was no more than into her first fits of insanity before a pack of wolves charged at her.
I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn’t shake the echo of frail wailing from my dreams.
