Neville glanced at Elizabeth--his eye met hers--their thought was the same, that this declaration proceeded from insanity. The fire that flashed from Falkner's eyes as he spoke--the sudden crimson that died his cheeks--the hollow though subdued tone of his voice, gave warrant for such a suspicion. Elizabeth gazed on him with painful solicitude. "I will not stay one moment longer," continued Falkner, "to pain you by the sight of one so accursed as I. You will hear more from me this very evening. You will hear enough to arrest your voyage; and remember that I shall remain ready to answer any call--to make any reparation--any atonement you may require." He was gone--the door closed; it was as if a dread spectre had vanished, and Neville and Elizabeth looked at each other to read in the face of either whether both were conscious of having been visited by the same vision. "What does he mean? Can you tell me what to think?" cried Neville, almost gasping for breath. "I will tell you in a few hours," said Elizabeth. "I must go to him now; I fear he is very ill. This is madness. When your mother died, Mr. Neville, my father and I were travelling together in Russia or Poland. I remember dates--I am sure that it was so. This is too dreadful. Farewell. You sail to-morrow--you shall hear from me to-night." "Be sure that I do," said Neville; "for there is a method in his speech--a dignity and a composure in his manner, that enforces a sort of belief. What can he mean?" "Do you imagine," cried Elizabeth, "that there is any truth in these unhappy ravings? That my father, who would not tread upon a worm--whose compassionate disposition and disinterestedness have been known to me since early childhood--the noblest and yet the gentlest of human beings--do you imagine that he is a murderer? Dear Mr. Neville, he never could have seen your mother!" "Is it indeed so?" said Neville; "yet he said one word--did you not remark?--he called himself Rupert. But I will not distress you. You will write; or rather, as my time will be occupied in preparations for my voyage, and I scarcely know where the day will be spent, I will call here this evening at nine. If you cannot see me, send me a note to the gate, containing some information, either to expedite or delay my journey. Even if this strange scene be the work of insanity, how can I leave you in distress? and if it be true what he says--if he be the man I saw tear my mother from me--how altered--how turned to age and decrepitude! Yet, if he be that man, then I have a new and horrible course to take." "Is it so?" cried Elizabeth, with indignation; "and can a man so cloud his fair fame, so destroy his very existence, by the wild words of delirium, that my dear father should be accused of being the most odious criminal?" "Nay," replied Neville, "I make no accusation. Do not part from me in anger. You are right, I do not doubt; and I am unjust. I will call to-night."