‘My mother,’ replied the maniac. ‘Listen while I tell you the strange story. I thought, as I was wandering in the forest, a sylph of heaven approached, and revealed the countenance of my mother. I flew to join her, but was withheld by a wizard, who pointed to the western star. On a sudden loud shrieks were heard, and the sylph assumed the guise of a demon. Her figure towered to an awful height, and she pointed in scornful derision to you; yes, to you, my wife. With rage she drew you towards me. I seized--I murdered you, and strange cries and groans filled the air. I heard the voice of the fiendish astrologer shouting as from a charnel house, “Your destiny is accomplished, and the victim may retire with honour.” Then, I thought, the fair front of heaven was obscured, and thick gouts of clotted clammy blood showered down in torrents from the blackened clouds of the west. The star shot through the air, and--the phantom of my mother again beckoned me to follow.’ The maniac ceased, and rushed in agony from the apartment. Marcelia followed, and discovered him leaning in a trance against the wainscot of the library. With gentlest motion she drew his hand in hers, and led him into the open air. They rambled on, heedless of the gathering storm, until they discovered themselves at the base of the tower of Rudstein. Suddenly the maniac paused. A horrid thought seemed flashing across his brain, as with giant grasp he seized Marcelia in his arms, and bore her to the fatal apartment. In vain she shrieked for help, for pity. ‘Dear Reginald, it is Marcelia who speaks, you cannot surely harm her.’ He heard--he heeded not, nor once staid his steps till he reached the room of death. On a sudden his countenance lost its wildness, and assumed a more fearful, but composed look of determined madness. He advanced to the window, dragged away the rotting curtain, and gazed on the stormy face of heaven. Dark clouds flitted across the horizon, and thunder echoed in the distance. To the west the fatal star was still visible, but shone with sickly lustre. At this instant a flash of lightning illumined the whole apartment, and threw a broad red glare upon a skeleton that mouldered upon the floor. Reginald observed it with affright, and remembered the unburied astrologer. He advanced to Marcelia, and, pointing to the rising moon, ‘A dark cloud is sailing by,’ he shudderingly exclaimed, ‘but ere the full orb again shines forth you shall die; I will accompany you in death, and hand in hand will we pass into the presence of our people.’ The poor girl shrieked for pity, but her voice was lost in the angry ravings of the storm.