CHAPTER vii. AN ENCOUNTER.
CHAPTER vii. Two whole days passed thus; no enquiries reached Mrs Wyers, and she found in the news-papers no advertisement. Meanwhile Cecilia grew worse every moment, tasted neither drink nor food, raved incessantly, called out twenty times in a breath, "Where is he? which way is he gone?" and implored the woman by the most pathetic remonstrances, to save her unhappy Delvile, dearer to her than life, more precious than peace or rest!
At other times she talked of her marriage, of the displeasure of his family, and of her own remorse; entreated the woman not to betray her, and promised to spend the remnant of her days in the heaviness of sorrow and contrition.
Again her fancy roved, and Mr Monckton took sole possession of it. She reproached him for his perfidy, she bewailed that he was massacred, she would not a moment out-live him, and wildly declared her last remains should moulder in his hearse! And thus, though naturally and commonly of a silent and quiet disposition, she was now not a moment still, for the irregular starts of a terrified and disordered imagination, were changed into the constant ravings of morbid delirium.
The woman, growing uneasy from her uncertainty of pay for her trouble, asked the advice of some of her friends what was proper for her to do; and they counselled her to put an advertisement into the papers herself the next morning.
The following, therefore, was drawn up and sent to the printer of the Daily Advertiser.
MADNESS.
Whereas a crazy young lady, tall, fair complexioned, with blue eyes and light hair, ran into the Three Blue Balls, in----street, on Thursday night, the 2nd instant, and has been kept there since out of charity. She was dressed in a riding habit. Whoever she belongs to is desired to send after her immediately. She has been treated with the utmost care and tenderness. She talks much of some person by the name of Delvile.
N.B.--She had no money about her.
May, 1780.
This had but just been sent off, when Mr Wyers, the man of the house, coming up stairs, said, "Now we shall have two of them, for here's the crazy old gentleman below, that says he has just heard in the neighbourhood of what has happened to us, and he desires to see the poor lady."
"It's as well let him come up, then," answered Mrs Wyers, "for he goes to all sort of places and people, and ten to one but he'll bustle about till he finds out who she is."
Mr Wyers then went down stairs to send him up.
He came instantly. It was Albany, who in his vagrant rambles, having heard an unknown mad lady was at this pawn-broker's, came, with his customary eagerness to visit and serve the unhappy, to see what could be done for her.
When he entered the room, she was sitting upon the bed, her eyes earnestly fixed upon the window, from which she was privately indulging a wish to make her escape. Her dress was in much disorder, her fine hair was dishevelled, and the feathers of her riding hat were broken and half falling down, some shading her face, others reaching to her shoulder.
"Poor lady!" cried Albany, approaching her, "how long has she been in this state?"
She started at the sound of a new voice, she looked round,--but what was the astonishment of Albany to see who it was!--He stept back,-he came forward,--he doubted his own senses,--he looked at her earnestly, --he turned from her to look at the woman of the house,--he cast his eyes round the room itself, and then, lifting up his hands, "O sight of woe!" he cried, "the generous and good! the kind reliever of distress! the benign sustainer of misery!--is This Cecilia!"--