“‘Where is she? How!’ I could utter no more--my eyes were fixed upon the inquisitive and frightened countenance opposite to my own. Those eyes, I thought, might have said all that my lips could not; I was deceived--the old woman understood me no more than I did her; another person appeared--I recognized the face--it was that of a girl, who had been one of our attendants. Will you believe, that at that sight, the sight of one I had seen before, and could associate with the remembrance of the breathing, the living, the present Gertrude, a thrill of joy flashed across me--my fears seemed to vanish--my spell to cease? “I sprung from the carriage; I caught the girl by the robe. ‘Your mistress,’ said I, ‘your mistress--she is well--she is alive--speak, speak?’ The girl shrieked out; my eagerness, and, perhaps, my emaciated and altered appearance, terrified her; but she had the strong nerves of youth, and was soon re-assured. She requested me to step in, and she would tell me all. My wife (Gertrude always went by that name), was alive, and, she believed, well, but she had left that place some weeks since. Trembling, and still fearful, but, comparatively, in Heaven, to my former agony, I followed the girl and the old woman into the house. “The former got me some water. ‘Now,’ said I, when I had drank a long and hearty draught, ‘I am ready to hear all--my wife has left this house, you say--for what place?’ The girl hesitated and looked down; the old woman, who was somewhat deaf, and did not rightly understand my questions, or the nature of the personal interest I had in the reply, answered,--‘What does the gentleman want? the poor young lady who was last here? Lord help her!’ “‘What of her?’ I called out, in a new alarm. ‘What of her? Where has she gone? Who took her away?’ “‘Who took her?’ mumbled the old woman, fretful at my impatient tone; ‘Who took her? why, the mad doctor, to be sure!’ “I heard no more; my frame could support no longer the agonies my mind had undergone; I fell lifeless on the ground.