How did I have such a mad fancy? I will tell you. This ship-fever often terminates in a sort of stupor, in which death generally takes place. Sometimes, however, the patient who has fallen into this stupor revives again. It is known to the physicians as the “trance state.” I had seen cases of this at sea. Several times people were thrown overboard when I thought that they did not have all the signs of death, and at last, in two cases of which I had charge, I detained the corpses three days, in spite of the remonstrances of the other passengers. _These two revived._ By this I knew that some of those who were thrown overboard were not dead. Did I feel horror at this, my Teresa? No. “Pass away,” I said, “unhappy ones. You are not dead. You live in a better life than this. What matters it whether you died by the fever or by the sea?” But when I saw Edith as she lay there my soul felt assured that she was not dead, and an unutterable convulsion of sorrow overwhelmed me. Therefore I fainted. The horror of that situation was too much for me. To think of that angelic girl about to be covered up alive in the ground; to think of that sweet young life, which had begun so brightly, terminating amidst such black darkness! “Now God help me!” I cried, as I hurried on after the woman; “and bring me there in time.” There! Where? To the place of the dead. It was there that I had to seek her. “How long had she been in that house before I fainted?” I asked, fearfully. “Twenty-four hours.” “And when did I faint?” “Yesterday.” A pang shot through me. “Tell me,” I cried, hoarsely, “when she was buried.” “Last night.” “O God!” I groaned, and I could say no more; but with new strength given to me in that hour of agony I rushed on. It was by the eastern shore of the island. A wide flat was there, washed on one side by the river. Here more than a thousand mounds arose. Alas! could I ever hope to find her! “Do you know where they have laid her?” I asked, tremblingly. “Yes,” said the woman, confidently. Hope returned faintly. She led the way. The moon beamed out brightly from behind a cloud, illumining the waste of mounds. The river murmured solemnly along the shore. All my senses were overwhelmed in the madness of that hour. The moon seemed enlarged to the dimensions of a sky; the murmur of the river sounded like a cataract, and in the vast murmur I heard voices which seemed then like the voices of the dead. But the lustre of that exaggerated glow, and the booming concord of fancied spirit-voices were all contemned as trifles. I cared for nothing either natural or supernatural. Only one thought was present--the place where she was laid. We reached it at last. At the end of a row of graves we stopped. “Here,” said the woman, “are twelve graves. These were made last night. These are those twelve which you saw.” “And where--where, O God, is SHE!” “There,” replied the woman, pointing to one which was the third from the end.