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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Yes; and on a very curious expedition. I am going to Monkton's rooms, by his own invitation." "You don't mean it! Upon my honor, you're a bold fellow to trust yourself alone with 'Mad Monkton' when the moon is at the full." "He is ill, poor fellow. Besides, I don't think him half as mad as you do."
Saying this, he leaned his head on his hand, sighed, and began repeating softly to himself the lines of the old prophecy: When in Wincot vault a place Waits for one of Monkton's race When that one forlorn shall lie Graveless under open sky, Beggared of six feet of earth, Though lord of acres from his birth That shall be a certain sign Of the end of Monktons line.
Knowing that I could place no dependence on the presence of mind of Monkton's servant, I confided to the captain, in the fewest and plainest words, the condition of my unhappy friend, and asked if I might depend on his help. He nodded his head, and we descended together to the cabin.
Even at this day it costs me pain to write of the terrible necessity to which the strength and obstinacy of Monkton's delusion reduced us in the last resort. We were compelled to secure his hands, and drag him by main force to the deck. The men were on the point of launching the boat, and refused at first to receive us into it.
Dwindling ever faster, faster, Dwindling to the last-left master; From mortal ken, from light of day, Monkton's race shall pass away." Fancying that he pronounced the last lines a little incoherently, I tried to make him change the subject. He took no notice of what I said, and went on talking to himself. "Monkton's race shall pass away," he repeated, "but not with me.
Monkton's body, and took it back with him to England, was it right in me thus to lend myself to promoting the marriage which would most likely follow these events a marriage which it might be the duty of every one to prevent at all hazards? This set me thinking about the extent of his madness, or to speak more mildly and more correctly, of his delusion.
When I last heard of her, years and years ago, she was faithful to the memory of the dead, and was Ada Elmslie still for Alfred Monkton's sake. STILL cloudy, but no rain to keep our young lady indoors. The paper, as usual, without interest to me. To-day Owen actually vanquished his difficulties and finished his story.
Well, some time ago this uncle fought a duel in the Roman States with a Frenchman, who shot him dead. We heard nothing here of the details of the duel till a month after it happened, when one of the French journals published an account of it, taken from the papers left by Monkton's second, who died at Paris of consumption.
It was plain that the real hallucination in the case now before me lay in Monkton's conviction of the truth of the old prophecy, and in his idea that the fancied apparition was a supernatural warning to him to evade its denunciations; and it was equally clear that both delusions had been produced, in the first instance, by the lonely life he had led acting on a naturally excitable temperament, which was rendered further liable to moral disease by an hereditary taint of insanity.
I confess I felt uneasy, almost hopeless, as we posted, in the dazzling Italian sunshine, along the road to Fondi. We made an easy two days' journey of it; for I had insisted, on Monkton's account, that we should travel slowly. On the first day the excessive agitation of my companion a little alarmed me; he showed, in many ways, more symptoms of a disordered mind than I had yet observed in him.
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