cents which insensibly responded to the great grief weighing down his spirit.
Fabian was still listening. What was he going to do? Would he call to the mad woman? And what if Ellen suddenly appeared? Everything was dangerous in this situation! However, Fabian came nearer still to the door of her cabin; the song, which was growing fainter and fainter, suddenly died away, and a piercing shriek was heard.
Had Ellen, by a magnetic communication, felt him whom she loved so near her? Fabian's attitude was desperate; he had gathered himself up. Was he going to break the door open? I thought he would, so I rushed up to him.
He recognized me; I dragged him away, and he made no resistance, but asked me in a hollow voice, "Do you know who that unhappy woman is?"
"No, Fabian, no."
"It is the mad woman," said he, in an unnatural voice, "but this madness is not without remedy. I feel that a little devotion, a little love, would cure the poor woman."
"Come, Fabian," said I, come away.
We went on deck, but Fabian did not utter another word. I did not leave him, however, until he had reached his cabin.
CHAPTER XXI
WE ENCOUNTER A CYCLONE
Soon moments later I met Captain Corsican, and told him of the scene I had just witnessed. He understood, as well as I did, that the situation of affairs was growing more and more serious. Ah! could I have foreseen all that would happen, how I should have longed to hasten the speed of the Great Eastern, and put the broad ocean between Fabian and Harry Drake! On leaving each other, Captain Corsican and I agreed to watch the actors in this drama more narrowly than ever.
About eleven o'clock the English passengers organized a subscription on behalf of the wounded on board, some of whom had not been able to leave the hospital; among them was the boatswain, threatened with an incurable lameness. There was soon a long list of signatures, not however, without some objections having been raised.
