ith nothing but gratification,
since he looked upon her jealousy as the beginning of hate; and the
vengeance which she once more desired could hardly be thwarted a
second time.

When she came to describe the affair of the masquerade, however, her
tone changed, and she became much more explicit. She went into all
the details of that adventure with the utmost minuteness, describing
all the particulars of every scene, the dresses which were worn both
by Lord Chetwynde and herself, and the general appearance of the
grounds. On these she lingered long, describing little incidents in
her search, as though unwilling to come to the denouement. When she
reached this point of her story she became deeply agitated, and as
she described the memorable events of that meeting with the fearful
figure of the dead the horror that filled her soul was manifest in
her looks and in her words, and communicated itself to Gualtier so
strongly that an involuntary shudder passed through him.

After she had ended he was silent for a long time.

"You do not say any thing?" said she.

"I hardly know what to say on the instant," was the reply.

"But are you not yourself overawed when you think of my attempt at
vengeance being foiled in so terrible a manner? What would you think
if yours were to be baffled in the same way? What would you say, what
would you do, if there should come to you this awful phantom? Oh, my
God!" she cried, with a groan of horror, "shall I ever forget the
agony of that moment when that shape stood before me, and all life
seemed on the instant to die out into nothingness!"

Gualtier was silent for a long time, and profoundly thoughtful.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Hilda at last, with some
impatience.

"I am thinking that this event may be accounted for on natural
grounds," said he.

"No," said Hilda, warmly; "nothing in nature can account for it. When
the dead come back to life, reason falters."

She shuddered as she spoke.

"Yes, my lady," said Gualtier, "but the dead do _not_ come back to
life. You have seen an apparition, I doubt not; but that is a very
different thing from the actual manifestation of the dead. What you
saw was but the emanation of your own brain. It was your own fancies
which thus became visible, and the image which became apparent to
your eye was precisely the same as those which come in delirium. A
glass of brandy or so may serve to bring up before the eyes a
thousand abhorrent spe