The Maniac's Story

A scheming villain forged the tale
That chains me in this dreary cell,
My fate unknown, my friends bewail,
Oh, doctor, haste that fate to tell!
Oh, haste my daughter's heart to cheer,
Her heart, at once, 'twill grieve and glad
To know, tho' chained and captive here,
I am not mad! I am not mad!

M. G. Lewis

There is some advantage in having imagination, since that visionary
faculty opens the mental eyes to facts that more practical and duller
intellects could never see.

Traverse was young and romantic, and deeply interested in the doctor's
beautiful patient. He, therefore, did not yield his full credulity to
the tale told by the "relative illustrious" to the old doctor, as to
the history and cause of the lady's madness, or even take it for
granted that she was mad. He thought it quite possible that the
distinguished officer's story might be a wicked fabrication, to conceal
a crime, and that the lady's "crazy fancy" might be the pure truth.

And Traverse had heard to what heinous uses private mad-houses were
sometimes put by some unscrupulous men, who wished to get certain women
out of their way, yet who shrank from bloodshed.

And he thought it not impossible that this "gentleman so noble, so
compassionate and tender," might be just such a man, and this "fallen
angel" such a victim. And he determined to watch and observe. And he
further resolved to treat the interesting patient with all the studious
delicacy and respect due to a refined and accomplished woman in the
full possession of her faculties. If she were really mad, this demeanor
would not hurt her, and if she were not mad it was the only proper
conduct to be observed toward her, as any other must be equally cruel
and offensive. Her bodily health certainly required the attendance of a
physician, and Traverse had therefore a fair excuse for his daily
visits to her cell.