I woke early, as usual, and having prepared the house for the day, waited for my master to rise. He came in at his accustomed time and sat down to his breakfast. It came into my mind to say something about the activities of the night before, but something in his manner stopped me. If asked I would have said that he seemed as well as I had ever seen him, yet there was a pallor to his skin - almost a sheen on his flesh - which looked unhealthy to my eye. As I was about to talk to him, he raised his eyes from the plate before me, and I was struck silent by the look in his eyes. It might come to pass that I will ask him what had transpired, but I could find nothing to say to one who had such a look in their eye. I dropped my own gaze, and suppressed a shudder, waiting on him finishing his meal so that I could clear his dishes and retreat from his presence.

I would not want to give the impression that I was frightened of my master, for he has never done anything to warrant that and I have never seen him raise his hand in anger to man or woman. However, I would say that I was frightened for him. What I saw in his eyes belonged on the face of no living creature, and I must say that I felt I could finally say I had seen the face of fate.