her I could write
shorthand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it. When I had
written my two letters I sat quiet, reading a book whilst the Count
wrote several notes, referring as he wrote them to some books on his
table. Then he took up my two and placed them with his own, and put
by his writing materials, after which, the instant the door had closed
behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters, which were face
down on the table. I felt no compunction in doing so for under the
circumstances I felt that I should protect myself in every way I
could.

One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billington, No. 7, The
Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna. The third was to
Coutts & Co., London, and the fourth to Herren Klopstock & Billreuth,
bankers, Buda Pesth. The second and fourth were unsealed. I was just
about to look at them when I saw the door handle move. I sank back in
my seat, having just had time to resume my book before the Count,
holding still another letter in his hand, entered the room. He took
up the letters on the table and stamped them carefully, and then
turning to me, said,

"I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private
this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish." At the
door he turned, and after a moment's pause said, "Let me advise you,
my dear young friend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that
should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in
any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and
there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should
sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your
own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But
if you be not careful in this respect, then," He finished his speech
in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing
them. I quite understood. My only doubt was as to whether any dream
could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and
mystery which seemed closing around me.

Later.--I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no
doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is
not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine
that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain.

When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing
any sound, I ca