ented herself at the
door of the asylum. At her own request they place her in confinement;
then the unhappy woman every night passes through the terrible scenes of
the French Revolution, of which she was a witness in her youth. She
trembles in the hands of the executioner; she fancies herself drenched
with the blood of the victims; she weeps and cries aloud incessantly. In
the course of a few weeks the mind returns to its wonted seat, and she is
restored to liberty with the full expectation that she will return again
in a year.

"The Count of Nideck is suffering from a similar attack," I said;
"unknown chains unite his fate with that of the Black Plague. Who can
tell?" thought I; "that woman once was young, perhaps beautiful!"

And my imagination, once launched, carried me into the interesting
regions of romance; but I was careful to tell no one what I thought. If I
had opened out those conjectures to Sperver he would never have forgiven
me for imagining that there could have been any intimacy between his
master and the Black Plague; and as for Mademoiselle Odile, I dared not
suggest insanity to her.

The poor young lady was evidently most unhappy. Her refusal to marry had
so embittered the count against her that he could scarcely endure to have
her in his presence. He bitterly reproached her with her ingratitude and
disobedience, and expatiated upon the cruelty of ungrateful children.
Sometimes even violent curses followed his daughter's visits. Things at
last were so bad that I thought myself obliged to interfere. I therefore
waited one evening on the countess in the antechamber and entreated her
to relinquish her personal attendance upon her father. But here arose,
contrary to all expectations, quite an unforeseen obstacle. In spite of
all my entreaties she steadily insisted on watching by her father and
nursing him as she had done hitherto.

"It is my duty," she repeated, "and no arguments will shake my purpose,"
she said firmly.

"Madam," I replied as a last effort, "the medical profession, too, has
its duties, and an honourable man must fulfil them even to harshness and
cruelty; your presence is killing your father."

I shall remember all my life the sudden change in the expression of the
face of Odile.

My solemn words of warning seemed to cause the blood to flow back to the
heart; her face became white as marble, and her large blue eyes, fixed
steadily upon mine, seemed to read into the most secret reces