dries, which, although distant
from the Castle several miles, formed a very important item in the
rent-roll of the estates. The company separated for the night.
Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same circumstances,
recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick man
was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror
took possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular
communication with the beings of the invisible world.

The weather favored D'Effernay's projects. The whole day was passed
in the open air. Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when
they played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual
consent, every word, every look that could awaken the slightest
suspicion or jealous feeling in D'Effernay's mind. She thanked him
in her heart for this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another
world; she took little heed of what passed around her. Her husband was
in an excellent temper; he played the part of host to perfection; and
when the two officers were established comfortably by the fire, in the
captain's room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his
courteous manners.

"He appears to be a man of general information," remarked Edward.

"He has traveled a great deal, and read a great deal, as I told you
when we first met: he is a remarkable man, but one of uncontrolled
passions, and desperately jealous."

"Yet he appears very attentive to his wife."

"Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy,
and himself too."

"He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness."

"He can never bear to remain in one place for any length of time
together. He is now going to sell the property he only bought last
year. There is an instability about him; everything palls on him."

"That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the
world."

"Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me
that man must have a bad conscience."

"What an idea!" rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the
captain's remark struck him forcibly. "He seems a man of honor."

"Oh, one may be a man of honor, as it is called, and yet have
something quite bad enough to reproach yourself with. But I know
nothing about it, and would not breathe such a thing except to you.
His wife, too, looks so pale and so oppressed."

"But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression."

"Oh