"What, you are still in your old fancies," rejoined Rougemont. "I thought the draught I gave you last night would have amended you."
"Tell me who and what I am," cried Auriol, stupefied with astonishment; "in what age I am living; and whether I am in my right mind or not?"
"For the first, you are called Auriol Darcy," replied Rougemont; "for the second, you are living in the reign of his most Catholic Majesty James I. of England, and Sixth of Scotland; and for the third, I trust you will soon recover your reason."
"Amazement!" cried Auriol, striking his brow with his clenched hand. "Then I am mad."
"It's plain your reason is returning, since you are conscious of your condition," replied Rougemont; "but calm yourself, you have been subject to raging frenzies."
"And I have been shut up here for safety?" demanded Auriol.
"Precisely," observed the other.
"And you are——"
"Your keeper," replied Rougemont.
"My God! what a brain mine must be!" cried Auriol. "Answer me one question—Is there such a person as Ebba Thorneycroft?"