“No sooner did I perceive it motionless than I repented of having killed a creature unconscious of the mischief it had done. Was this worthy of the professor of philosophy, the adorer of the gentle Amelia? But thus to eat up my rose-tree, my only hope to get admittance to her! When I thought on its annihilation, I could not consider myself so culpable. However, the night darkened; I heard the old servant crossing the lower passage, and I called her. ‘Catherine,’ said I, ‘bring your light, there is mischief here; you left the stable doon open (that of the court was also unclosed), one of your sheep has been browsing on my rose-trees, and I have punished it.’ “She soon came with a lanthorn in her hand. It is not one of our sheep,’ said she; ‘I have just come from them; the stable gate is shut, and they are all within. O, blessed saints! blessed saints! What do I see’--exclaimed she, when near, ‘it is the pet sheep of our neighbour Mademoiselle de Belmont. Poor Robin! what bad luck brought you here! O! how sorry she will be.’ I nearly dropped down beside Robin. “‘Of Mademoiselle Amelia!’ said I in a trembling voice; ‘has she actually a sheep?’ ‘O! good Lord! no; she has none at this moment--but that which lies there, with its four legs up in the air: she loved it as herself; see the collar that she worked for it with her own hands.’ I bent to look at it. It was of red leather, ornamented with little bells, and she had embroidered on it, in gold thread--‘Robin belongs to Amelia de Belmont; she loves him, and begs that he may be restored to her.’ ‘What will she think of the barbarian who killed him in a fit of passion--the vice that she most detests; she is right, it has been fatal to her; yet if he should be only stunned by a blow; Catherine, run, ask for some aether, or _Eau de Vie_, or hartshorn,--run, Catherine, run!’ “Catherine set off; I tried to make it open its mouth,--my rose-bud was still between its hermetically-sealed teeth; perhaps the collar pressed it: in fact the throat was swelled. I got it off with difficulty; something fell from it at my feet, which I mechanically took up and put into my pocket without looking at, so much was I absorbed in anxiety for the resuscitation. I rubbed him with all my strength; I grew more and more impatient for the return of Catherine. She came with a small new phial in her hand, calling out in her usual manner, ‘Here, sir, here’s the medicine. I never opened my mouth about it to Mademoiselle Amelia; I pity her enough without that.’