ess of its appearance, which seemed to arise partly from its
isolated position, and partly from the unusual absence of all
decoration on its external front. It was too extensive to have been
the dwelling of a poor man, too void of pomp and ornament to have been
a mansion of the rich. It might, perhaps, have belonged to some
citizen, or foreigner, or the middle class--some moody Northman, some
solitary Egyptian, some scheming Jew. Yet, though it was not
possessed, in itself, of any remarkable or decided character, the Goth
experienced a mysterious, almost an eager curiosity to examine its
interior. He could assign no cause, discover no excuse for the act, as
he slowly mounted the steps before him. Some invisible and
incomprehensible magnet attracted him to the dwelling. If his return
had been suddenly commanded by Alaric himself; if evidences of
indubitable treachery had lurked about the solitary place, at the
moment when he thrust open its unbarred door, he felt that he must
still have proceeded upon his onward course. The next instant he
entered the house. The light streamed through the open entrance into
the gloomy hall; the night-wind, rushing upon its track, blew shrill
and dreary among the stone pillars, and in the hidden crevices and
untenanted chambers above. Not a sign of life appeared, not a sound of
a footstep was audible, not even an article of household use was to be
seen. The deserted suburbs rose without, like a wilderness; and this
empty house looked within, like a sepulchre--void of corpses, and yet
eloquent of death!

There was an inexplicable fascination to the eyes of the Goth about
this vault-like, solitary hall. He stood motionless at its entrance,
gazing dreamily at the gloomy prospect before him, until a strong gust
of wind suddenly forced the outer door further backwards, and at the
same moment admitted a larger stream of light.

The place was not empty. In a corner of the hall, hitherto sunk in
darkness, crouched a shadowy form. It was enveloped in a dark garment,
and huddled up into an indefinable and unfamiliar shape. Nothing
appeared on it, as a denoting sign of humanity, but one pale hand,
holding the black drapery together, and relieved against it in almost
ghastly contrast under the cold light of the moon.

Vague remembrances of the awful superstitions of his nation's ancient
worship, hurried over the memory of the young Goth, at the first moment
of his discovery of the g