CHAPTER XXXIV.
CLOTELLE MEETS HER FATHER.
The clouds that had skirted the sky during the day broke at last, and the rain fell in torrents, as Jerome and Clotelle retired for the night, in the little town of Ferney, on the borders of Lake Leman.

The peals of thunder, and flashes of vivid lightening, which seemed to leap from mountain to mountain and from crag to crag, reverberating among the surrounding hills, foretold a heavy storm.
"I would we were back at Geneva," said Clotelle, as she heard groans issuing from an adjoining room.

The sounds, at first faint, grew louder and louder, plainly indicating that some person was suffering extreme pain.
"I did not like this hotel, much, when we came in," I said Jerome, relighting the lamp, which had been accidentally extinguished.
"Nor I," returned Clotelle.
The shrieks increased, and an occasional "She's dead!" "I killed her!" "No, she is not dead!" and such-like expressions, would be heard from the person, who seemed to be deranged.
The thunder grew louder, and the flashes of lightning more vivid, while the noise from the sick-room seemed to increase.
As Jerome opened the door, to learn, if possible, the cause of the cries and groans, he could distinguish the words, "She's dead! yes, she's dead! but I did not kill her.

She was my child! my own daughter.
I loved her, and yet I did not protect her." "Whoever he is," said Jerome, "he's crack-brained; some robber, probably, from the mountains." The storm continued to rage, and the loud peals of thunder and sharp flashes of lightening, together with the shrieks and moans of the maniac in the adjoining room, made the night a fearful one.

The long hours wore slowly away, but neither Jerome nor his wife could sleep, and they arose at an early hour in the morning, ordered breakfast, and resolved to return to Geneva.
"I am sorry, sir, that you were so much disturbed by the sick man last night," said the landlord, as he handed Jerome his bill.