I loved her, and yet I did not protect her." "Whoever he is," said Jerome, "he's crack-brained; some robber, probably, from the mountains." The storm continued to rage, and the loud peals of thunder and sharp flashes of lightening, together with the shrieks and moans of the maniac in the adjoining room, made the night a fearful one.

The long hours wore slowly away, but neither Jerome nor his wife could sleep, and they arose at an early hour in the morning, ordered breakfast, and resolved to return to Geneva.
"I am sorry, sir, that you were so much disturbed by the sick man last night," said the landlord, as he handed Jerome his bill.

"I should be glad if he would get able to go away, or die, for he's a deal of trouble to me.

Several persons have left my house on his account." "Where is he from ?" inquired Jerome.

"He's from the United States, and has been here a week to-day, and has been crazy ever since." "Has he no friends with him ?" asked the guest.
"No, he is alone," was the reply.
Jerome related to his wife what he had learned from the landlord, respecting the sick man, and the intelligence impressed her so strongly, that she requested him to make further inquiries concerning the stranger.
He therefore consulted the book in which guests usually register their names, and, to his great surprise, found that the American's name was Henry Linwood, and that he was from Richmond, Va.
It was with feelings of trepidation that Clotelle heard these particulars from the lips of her husband.
"We must see this poor man, whoever he is," said she, as Jerome finished the sentence.
The landlord was glad to hear that his guests felt some interest in the sick man, and promised that the invalid's room should be got ready for their reception.
The clock in the hall was just striking ten, as Jerome passed through and entered the sick man's chamber.