ours, and I will gladly make you up a bed in No. 12."

"No, thank you, Mrs. Wharton; I am much obliged to you all the same. I
have no doubt that the Baron and I will be capital friends."

"Well, sir, I wish you a pleasant night of it, I am sure," said the
housekeeper, as she handed me a candle. "Good-night, sir."

"Good-night, Mrs. Wharton."

I walked up stairs to the haunted chamber. Having reached the landing, I
entered my room and locked myself in for the night. In spite of my
forced levity, I must admit that I felt a certain feeling of awe come
over me upon entering the chamber once occupied by the author of so many
crimes. I could not but think that Mrs. Wharton herself thoroughly
believed in what seemed to me a popular superstition, but the more I
reflected on what she had told me of the Baron's crimes, the less
ludicrous did the idea of the Baron's metempsychosis appear to me.

What, after all, was there ridiculous in a flea more than in any other
hideous creature? The feeling of the ludicrous in my mind was supplanted
by one of horror. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are
dreamed of in our philosophy," I muttered. I could not make up my mind
to go to rest immediately. In fact, I did not feel in the least sleepy.
I busied myself in examining the room minutely to see if there were any
trap-door or sliding panel; and, tapping all the walls, expected every
moment to touch some spring and for some panel to fly back, discovering
a secret staircase. I examined the bed and under the bed, but could
discover nothing. The Baron's portrait hung over the mantelpiece. I
lifted up the picture to see if there was any hole in the wall
underneath, but there was nothing but good solid panel; nor could I in
any part of the room discover anything suspicious. I partially undressed
and seated myself in a large arm-chair in front of the Baron's portrait.
I was extremely interested in the perusal of his features, and had no
difficulty in believing all the atrocities attributed to the original.
The more I gazed at it, the more it fascinated me. I could not take my
eyes from it. Somehow or other the features seemed familiar to me; I
fancied I had seen them somewhere. I tried to collect my thoughts. Where
had I seen them before?

Suddenly I recollected a horrible criminal, who had murdered a whole
family and committed other heinous atrocities, and had been executed a
year or two before. I had to plead for him at the tri