er. A
winding road, with frequent climbs and brakes, leads from the valley to
this enchanting spot, the air and scenery of which cannot be surpassed
in the world.

CHAPTER XXXIV. CLOTELLE MEETS HER FATHER.

THE clouds that had skirted the sky during the day broke at last, and
the rain fell in torrents, as Jerome and Clotelle retired for the night,
in the little town of Ferney, on the borders of Lake Leman. The peals
of thunder, and flashes of vivid lightening, which seemed to leap from
mountain to mountain and from crag to crag, reverberating among the
surrounding hills, foretold a heavy storm.

"I would we were back at Geneva," said Clotelle, as she heard groans
issuing from an adjoining room. The sounds, at first faint, grew louder
and louder, plainly indicating that some person was suffering extreme
pain.

"I did not like this hotel, much, when we came in," said Jerome,
relighting the lamp, which had been accidentally extinguished.

"Nor I," returned Clotelle.

The shrieks increased, and an occasional "she's dead!" "I killed her!"
"No, she is not dead!" and such-like expressions, would be heard from
the person, who seemed to be deranged.

The thunder grew louder, and the flashes of lightening more vivid, while
the noise from the sick-room seemed to increase.

As Jerome opened the door, to learn, if possible, the cause of the cries
and groans, he could distinguish the words, "She's dead! yes, she's
dead! but I did not kill her. She was my child! my own daughter. 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 h