"I arrived there at day-break. It was a large, old house, which, like a
French hotel, seemed to have no visible door; dark and gloomy, the pile
appeared worthy of the purpose to which it was devoted. It was a long
time before we aroused any one to answer our call; at length, I was
ushered into a small parlour--how minutely I remember every article in
the room; what varieties there are in the extreme passions! sometimes the
same feeling will deaden all the senses--sometimes render them a hundred
fold more acute!--

"At last, a man of a smiling and rosy aspect appeared. He pointed to a
chair--rubbed his hands--and begged me to unfold my business; few words
sufficed to do that. I requested to see his patient; I demanded by what
authority she had been put under his care. The man's face altered. He was
but little pleased with the nature of my visit. 'The lady,' he said,
coolly, 'had been entrusted to his care, with an adequate remuneration,
by Mr. Tyrrell; without that gentleman's permission he could not think
even of suffering me to see her. I controlled my passion; I knew
something, if not of the nature of private mad-houses, at least of that
of mankind. I claimed his patient as my wife; I expressed myself obliged
by his care, and begged his acceptance of a further remuneration, which I
tendered, and which was eagerly accepted. The way was now cleared--there
is no hell to which a golden branch will not win your admittance.

"The man detained me no longer; he hastened to lead the way. We passed
through various long passages; sometimes the low moan of pain and
weakness came upon my ear--sometimes the confused murmur of the idiot's
drivelling soliloquy. From one passage, at right angles with the one
through which we proceeded, came a fierce and thrilling shriek; it sunk
at once into silence--perhaps by the lash!