Had I been inclined to superstition, I should have certainly thought
that I had to do with some siren whose business it was to confound the
traveler who should venture on the waters of the house on the lake.
Fortunately, I come from a country where we are too fond of fantastic
things not to know them through and through; and I had no doubt but
that I was face to face with some new invention of Erik's. But this
invention was so perfect that, as I leaned out of the boat, I was
impelled less by a desire to discover its trick than to enjoy its
charm; and I leaned out, leaned out until I almost overturned the boat.
Suddenly, two monstrous arms issued from the bosom of the waters and
seized me by the neck, dragging me down to the depths with irresistible
force. I should certainly have been lost, if I had not had time to
give a cry by which Erik knew me. For it was he; and, instead of
drowning me, as was certainly his first intention, he swam with me and
laid me gently on the bank: "How imprudent you are!" he said, as he stood before me, dripping with
water. "Why try to enter my house? I never invited you! I don't want
you there, nor anybody! Did you save my life only to make it
unbearable to me? However great the service you rendered him, Erik may
end by forgetting it; and you know that nothing can restrain Erik, not
even Erik himself."