"Willard, dearest Willard! tell me, have you, ever yet seen her?"
"Why will you question me thus, dearest Sibyl?"
"Answer me truly, Willard, on your honor."
"Well, then, dearest, I have."
Sibyl drew her breath quick and short, and held his arm with a convulsive grasp.
"Who is she?" she asked.
Willard turned, and looking steadily into her wild, searching eyes, replied, in a thrilling whisper:
CHAPTER III.
THE MANIAC'S CURSE.
"Her wretched brain gave way,
And she became a wreck at random driven,
Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven."—LALLA ROOKH.