had something to say in his
praise; and although this sudden allusion to his dearest friend had
agitated Edward in no slight degree, yet it was a consolation to him to
listen to the tribute these worthy people paid to the memory of
Ferdinand, and to see how genuine was their regret at the tidings of his
early death. The time passed swiftly away in conversation of much
interest, and the whole, company were surprised to hear ten o'clock
strike; an unusually late hour for this quiet, regular family. The
chaplain read prayers, in which Edward devoutly joined, and then he
kissed the matron's hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father's
house. The baron offered to show his guest to his room, and the servant
preceded them with lights. The way led past the staircase, and then on
one side into a long gallery, which communicated with another wing of
the castle.

The high-vaulted ceilings, the curious carving on the ponderous
doorways, the pointed gothic windows, through many broken panes of which
a sharp night wind whistled, proved to Edward that he was in the old
part of the castle, and that the famous chamber could not be far off.

"Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there," he began, rather
timidly; "I should like it of all things."

"Really!" inquired the baron, rather surprised; "have not our ghost
stories alarmed you?"

"On the contrary," was the reply, "they have excited the most earnest
wish--"

"Then, if that be the case," said the baron, "we will return. The room
was already prepared for you, being the most comfortable and the best in
the whole wing; only I fancied, after our conversation--"

"Oh, certainly not," exclaimed Edward; "I could only long for such
dreams."

During this discourse they had arrived at the door of the famous room.
They went in. They found themselves in a lofty and spacious apartment,
so large that the two candles which the servant carried, only, shed a
glimmering twilight over it, which did not penetrate to the furthest
corner. A high-canopied bed, hung with costly but old-fashioned damask,
of a dark green, in which were swelling pillows of snowy whiteness, tied
with green bows, and a silk coverlet of the same color, looked very
inviting to the tired traveler. Sofa and chairs of faded needlework, a
carved oak commode and table, a looking-glass in heavy framework, a
prie-dieu and crucifix above it, constituted the furniture of the room,
where, above all things, cleanlin