ar fell from his eyes upon her
pallid cheek.

"No," replied Mr. Marchdale. "This is a swoon, from which we must
recover her."

Active measures were now adopted to restore the languid circulation,
and, after persevering in them for some time, they had the satisfaction
of seeing her open her eyes.

Her first act upon consciousness returning, however, was to utter a loud
shriek, and it was not until Henry implored her to look around her, and
see that she was surrounded by none but friendly faces, that she would
venture again to open her eyes, and look timidly from one to the other.
Then she shuddered, and burst into tears as she said,--

"Oh, Heaven, have mercy upon me--Heaven, have mercy upon me, and save me
from that dreadful form."

"There is no one here, Flora," said Mr. Marchdale, "but those who love
you, and who, in defence of you, if needs were would lay down their
lives."

"Oh, God! Oh, God!"

"You have been terrified. But tell us distinctly what has happened? You
are quite safe now."

[Illustration]

She trembled so violently that Mr. Marchdale recommended that some
stimulant should be given to her, and she was persuaded, although not
without considerable difficulty, to swallow a small portion of some wine
from a cup. There could be no doubt but that the stimulating effect of
the wine was beneficial, for a slight accession of colour visited her
cheeks, and she spoke in a firmer tone as she said,--

"Do not leave me. Oh, do not leave me, any of you. I shall die if left
alone now. Oh, save me--save me. That horrible form! That fearful face!"

"Tell us how it happened, dear Flora?" said Henry.

"Or would you rather endeavour to get some sleep first?" suggested Mr.
Marchdale.

"No--no--no," she said, "I do not think I shall ever sleep again."

"Say not so; you will be more composed in a few hours, and then you can
tell us what has occurred."

"I will tell you now. I will tell you now."

She placed her hands over her face for a moment, as if to collect her
scattered, thoughts, and then she added,--

"I was awakened by the storm, and I saw that terrible apparition at the
window. I think I screamed, but I could not fly. Oh, God! I could not
fly. It came--it seized me by the hair. I know no more. I know no more."

She passed her hand across her neck several times, and Mr. Marchdale
said, in an anxious voice,--

"You seem, Flora, to have hurt your neck--there is a wound."

"A wound!" said the mot