The maniac raised his pallid brow--his eye flashed consciousness--the blue veins in his forehead swelled almost to bursting--he tossed his arms wildly--and sunk powerless on the corpses around--his convulsive shrieks re-echoing in that lonely vault. Thompson seized the Maltese, and making him unlock the door, bore the brothers into the open air; for Henry, at the time, was as much overpowered as George himself. A clear solution to that curious scene was never given, for George could not give the clue to his train of mental aberration. With regard to his companion's share in the transaction, the man was closely questioned, and other means of information resorted to, but the only facts elicited were these: His son had been executed some years before for a desperate attempt to assassinate a British soldier, with whom he had had an altercation during the carnival. The man himself said, that he had no recollection of ever having seen George before, but that he certainly _did_ remember some officers questioning him on two occasions somewhat minutely as to his mode of life. This part of his story was confirmed by another officer of the regiment, who remembered George and Delancey being with him on one occasion, when the latter had taken much interest in the questioning of this man. The Maltese declared, that on the night in question he was taken entirely by surprise--that George entered the room abruptly--offered him money to be allowed to accompany him to the vault--and told him that he had just placed a young lady there whom he wished to see. Colonel Vavasour, who took some trouble in arriving at the truth, was satisfied that the man was well aware of George's insanity, but that he felt too happy in being able to wreak an ignoble revenge on a British officer. Chapter XVI. The Marriage. "The child of love, though born in bitterness, And nurtured in convulsion." For many days, George Delmé lay on his couch unconscious and immoveable. If his eye looked calm, it was the tranquillity of apathetic ignorance, the fixedness of idiotcy. He spoke if he was addressed, but recognised no one, and his answers were not to the purpose. He took his food, and would then turn on his side, and close his eyes as if in sleep. In vain did Acmé watch over him--in vain did her tears bedew his couch--in vain did Delmé take his hand, and endeavour to draw his attention to passing objects. George had never been so long without a lucid interval. The surgeon's voice grew less cheering every day, as he saw the little amendment in his patient, and remarked that the pulse was gradually sinking. Colonel Vavasour never allowed a day to elapse without visiting the invalid; and in the regiment, his illness excited great commiseration, and drew forth many expressions of kindness. "Oh God! oh God!" said Delmé, "he must not sink thus. Just as I am with him--just as--oh, poor Emily! what will _she_ feel? Can nothing be done, Mr. Graham?"