e a book, that will entertain me.'

'Well,' said the Count, 'I hope nothing will disturb you; but if you
should be seriously alarmed in the night, come to my apartment. I have
too much confidence in your good sense and courage, to believe you will
be alarmed on slight grounds; or suffer the gloom of this chamber, or
its remote situation, to overcome you with ideal terrors. To-morrow, I
shall have to thank you for an important service; these rooms shall then
be thrown open, and my people will be convinced of their error. Good
night, Ludovico; let me see you early in the morning, and remember what
I lately said to you.'

'I will, my Lord; good night to your excellenza; let me attend you with
the light.'

He lighted the Count and Henri through the chambers to the outer door;
on the landing-place stood a lamp, which one of the affrighted servants
had left, and Henri, as he took it up, again bade Ludovico good night,
who, having respectfully returned the wish, closed the door upon them,
and fastened it. Then, as he retired to the bed-chamber, he examined the
rooms, through which he passed, with more minuteness than he had done
before, for he apprehended, that some person might have concealed
himself in them, for the purpose of frightening him. No one, however,
but himself, was in these chambers, and, leaving open the doors,
through which he passed, he came again to the great drawing-room, whose
spaciousness and silent gloom somewhat awed him. For a moment he stood,
looking back through the long suite of rooms he had quitted, and, as he
turned, perceiving a light and his own figure, reflected in one of the
large mirrors, he started. Other objects too were seen obscurely on its
dark surface, but he paused not to examine them, and returned hastily
into the bed-room, as he surveyed which, he observed the door of the
oriel, and opened it. All within was still. On looking round, his eye
was arrested by the portrait of the deceased Marchioness, upon which he
gazed, for a considerable time, with great attention and some surprise;
and then, having examined the closet, he returned into the bed-room,
where he kindled a wood fire, the bright blaze of which revived his
spirits, which had begun to yield to the gloom and silence of the place,
for gusts of wind alone broke at intervals this silence. He now drew a
small table and a chair near the fire, took a bottle of wine, and some
cold provision out of his basket, and regaled himself. W