sudden death was foretold. Alas! your narrative has confirmed the
truth of the prediction."

"Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has
he grieved me by alluding to it," said Edward; "yet it never made
him gloomy or discontented. He went on his way firmly and calmly, and
looked forward with joy, I might almost say, to another life."

"He was a superior man," answered the Baron. "whose memory will ever
be dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good night. Here
is the bell"--he showed him the cord in between the curtains--"and
your servant sleeps in the next room."

"Oh, you are too careful of me," said Edward, smiling; "I am used to
sleep by myself."

"Still," replied the Baron, "every precaution should be taken. Now
once more good night."

He shook him by the hand, and, followed by the servant, left the room.

Thus Edward found himself alone, in the large, mysterious-looking,
haunted room, where his deceased friend had so often reposed; where
he also was expected to see a vision. The awe which the place itself
inspired, combined with the sad and yet tender recollection of the
departed Ferdinand, produced a state of mental excitement which was
not favorable to his night's rest. He had already undressed with the
aid of his servant (whom he had then dismissed,) and had been in
bed some time, having extinguished the candles. No sleep visited his
eyelids; and the thought recurred which had so often troubled him,
why he had never received the promised token from Ferdinand, whether
his friend's spirit were among the blest--whether his silence (so to
speak) proceeded from unwillingness or incapacity to communicate with
the living. A mingled train of reflections agitated his mind; his
brain grew heated; his pulse beat faster and faster. The castle clock
tolled eleven--half-past eleven. He counted the strokes: and at
that moment the moon rose above the dark margin of the rocks which
surrounded the castle, and shed her full light into Edward's room.
Every object stood out in relief from the darkness. Edward gazed, and
thought, and speculated. It seemed to him as if something moved in the
furthest corner of the room. The movement was evident--it assumed a
form--the form of a man, which appeared to advance, or rather to float
forward. Here Edward lost all sense of surrounding objects, and found
himself once more sitting at the foot of the monument in the garden
of the academy, where he had