opiously they flowed, the more did
my general sensations appear to subside into calm, and a certain
restlessness give way to repose.

Perhaps, relieved by this effusion, the slumber so much wanted might
have stolen on my senses, had there been no new cause of alarm.

Chapter XI

I was aroused from this stupor by sounds that evidently arose in the
next chamber. Was it possible that I had been mistaken in the figure
which I had seen on the bank? or had Carwin, by some inscrutable means,
penetrated once more into this chamber? The opposite door opened;
footsteps came forth, and the person, advancing to mine, knocked.

So unexpected an incident robbed me of all presence of mind, and,
starting up, I involuntarily exclaimed, "Who is there?" An answer was
immediately given. The voice, to my inexpressible astonishment, was
Pleyel's.

"It is I. Have you risen? If you have not, make haste; I want three
minutes conversation with you in the parlour--I will wait for you
there." Saying this he retired from the door.

Should I confide in the testimony of my ears? If that were true, it was
Pleyel that had been hitherto immured in the opposite chamber: he whom
my rueful fancy had depicted in so many ruinous and ghastly shapes: he
whose footsteps had been listened to with such inquietude! What is man,
that knowledge is so sparingly conferred upon him! that his heart should
be wrung with distress, and his frame be exanimated with fear, though
his safety be encompassed with impregnable walls! What are the bounds
of human imbecility! He that warned me of the presence of my foe refused
the intimation by which so many racking fears would have been precluded.

Yet who would have imagined the arrival of Pleyel at such an hour? His
tone was desponding and anxious. Why this unseasonable summons? and why
this hasty departure? Some tidings he, perhaps, bears of mysterious and
unwelcome import.

My impatience would not allow me to consume much time in deliberation: I
hastened down. Pleyel I found standing at a window, with eyes cast
down as in meditation, and arms folded on his breast. Every line in
his countenance was pregnant with sorrow. To this was added a certain
wanness and air of fatigue. The last time I had seen him appearances
had been the reverse of these. I was startled at the change. The first
impulse was to question him as to the cause. This impulse was supplanted
by some degree of confusion, flowing from a consciousness