ccasion as wearisome to thee as to himself. Having
the power to annihilate both time and space, let us watch the round sun,
as he threw his last look, that evening, on the scene of this marvellous
history. The old walls of the college, and the church tower, were
invested with a gorgeous apparel of light, as though illumined for some
gay festival, some season of rejoicing, when gladness shines out visibly
in the shape of bonfires and torches. But few moments elapsed, ere the
love-sick youth was again admitted into the dark interior of the seer's
dwelling.

A voice whispered in his ear--

"Not a word, hardly a breath, as thou wouldest thrive in thy pursuit.
There be spirits abroad, not of earth, nor air. Be silent and discreet."

A ray suddenly darted across the room. Again the voice was at his ear:--

"Hold thine eye to the crevice when the light enters, and mark well what
thou beholdest."

Again he saw his mistress, apparently in a vaulted chamber, lighted by a
single lamp: she sat as if anxious and disturbed, her cheek pale and
flushed by turns, whilst her eye wandered hurriedly around the room.
Some one approached; it was the seer. Rodolf heard him speak.

"Maiden, hast thou a lover?"

The sound seemed scarcely akin to that of human speech. It rose heavily
and deep, as from the charnel-house, as if the grim and cold jaws of the
grave could utter a voice,--the dreary echoes of the tomb! The seer's
lips were motionless, whilst he thus continued in the same sepulchral
tone.

"I know thou hast. 'Tis here thy love would tend." He drew a richly-set
miniature from his bosom. It was mounted in so peculiar a fashion that
Rodolf started back with the first emotion of surprise. The miniature
was his own; a gem newly from the artist, and which he had left, as he
thought, in safe custody a short time ago. The voice again whispered in
his ear, "Beware."

He subdued the expression of wonder just rising on his lip, watching the
issue with increased interest.

Kate covered her face. She had just glanced at the picture, and her
proud bosom heaved almost to bursting.

"Look, disdainful woman! and though thy bosom be formed for love, yet
wouldest thou spurn it from thee. I _know_ thou lovest him. Nay, chide
not; thy brow cannot blast me with its thunders. Go to. I could, by mine
art, so humble thee, set thy love so exquisitely on its desire, that
thou shouldest lay thy proud womanhood aside--sue and crouch, even if
'twere f