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Carmilla

He staggered against the wall. His grey hair stood upon his head, and a moisture
shone over his face, as if he were at the point of death.
The frightful scene had passed in a moment. The first thing I recollect after, is
Madame standing before me, and impatiently repeating again and again, the
question, “Where is Mademoiselle Carmilla?”
I answered at length, “I don’t know—I can’t tell—she went there,” and I pointed to
the door through which Madame had just entered; “only a minute or two since.”
“But I have been standing there, in the passage, ever since Mademoiselle
Carmilla entered; and she did not return.”
She then began to call “Carmilla,” through every door and passage and from the
windows, but no answer came.
“She called herself Carmilla?” asked the General, still agitated.
“Carmilla, yes,” I answered.
“Aye,” he said; “that is Millarca. That is the same person who long ago was called
Mircalla, Countess Karnstein. Depart from this accursed ground, my poor child,
as quickly as you can. Drive to the clergyman’s house, and stay there till we
come. Begone! May you never behold Carmilla more; you will not find her here.”
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