I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth.
The fury of a demon instantly possessed me.
I knew myself no longer.
My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame.
I took from my waistcoat pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.
When reason returned with the morning-when I had slept off the fumes of the night's debauch-I experienced a sentiment half of horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty; but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul remained untouched.
I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed.
In the meantime the cat slowly recovered.
The socket of the lost eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer appeared to suffer any pain.
He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach.