of evil dared not
venture, why was it broken? Why did sickness, and sorrow, and
_madness_--yes, furious, hopeless, desponding madness--darken those
sunny days? Why did death come to her, and thick clouds to me?

The sky mocks me with its gemmed radiance. The stars shine on brightly;
but they fail to give light and hope to me. I have gazed on them with
her. I have seen her stand with her fair brow raised, and her lovely
face bathed in moonlight; but, as the pale beams danced around her, to
my eyes her own glory dimmed all other brightness.

The winds howl, and the trees wave to and fro in the tempest, and with
every blast comes a shriek, as if Julia were in despair, and I arise to
rush to her rescue; but the clanking chain of the maniac binds me. I try
to break my bonds, but they clasp me; and my hideous companion, the
phantom, jeers at me; and I hear the voice of my beloved receding
further and further from me, till, with an agonized moan, it dies away
in the distance.

And this the world calls fancy--the fantastic vision of a madman's
brain!

There was never a voice like _her_ voice; and though the winds rage
tempestuously among the waving branches of the storm-tossed trees, I
hear the liquid music of her accents above all, and I strain my eyes to
catch a glimpse of her person, but there is nothing; and I crouch down
again in my chains and my madness on my desolate bed, feeling how
utterly--how entirely, I am alone.

An interruption occurred in our intercourse, in consequence of Sir
Charles Tracey being obliged to go abroad, on business connected with
the state. His lady accompanied him, and they were absent for some
months. How I spent these months, I scarcely know. I avoided all
society--I felt moody--wretched--despairing. I grew violent. Restraint
became necessary. Then, indeed, I _knew_ that _I was mad_. Life was a
blank; and some weeks passed while this dark cloud was upon me.

At last, though my recovery had been a work of time, I was _called_
convalescent, and the violence of my frenzy abated.

I heard with joy that Sir Charles and his lady had returned to town. I
thought the hour would never come when I might set out on my visit.

I flew, rather than walked, to her residence. I felt startled and
alarmed as I trode the streets; for I had not been out for months, and I
fancied every one stared at me--that everyone knew _I was mad_; but the
one darling hope of seeing _her_ cheered me on.

At last I reac