He paused, and was lost in thought. His serious mien recalled, by some association, the half-forgotten Evadne to my mind, and I seized this opportunity to make enquiries from him concerning her strange lot. I asked him, if he had ever seen among the troops anyone resembling her; if since he had returned to Greece he had heard of her?

He started at her name⁠—he looked uneasily on me. “Even so,” he cried, “I knew you would speak of her. Long, long I had forgotten her. Since our encampment here, she daily, hourly visits my thoughts. When I am addressed, her name is the sound I expect: in every communication, I imagine that she will form a part. At length you have broken the spell; tell me what you know of her.”

I related my meeting with her; the story of her death was told and retold. With painful earnestness he questioned me concerning her prophecies with regard to him. I treated them as the ravings of a maniac. “No, no,” he said, “do not deceive yourself⁠—me you cannot. She has said nothing but what I knew before⁠—though this is confirmation. Fire, the sword, and plague! They may all be found in yonder city; on my head alone may they fall!”