he was impious or devout, She always contrived to
terrify her Auditors out of their senses. The Castle became scarcely
habitable; and its Lord was so frightened by these midnight Revels,
that one fine morning He was found dead in his bed. This success
seemed to please the Nun mightily, for now She made more noise than
ever. But the next Baron proved too cunning for her. He made his
appearance with a celebrated Exorciser in his hand, who feared not to
shut himself up for a night in the haunted Chamber. There it seems
that He had an hard battle with the Ghost, before She would promise to
be quiet. She was obstinate, but He was more so, and at length She
consented to let the Inhabitants of the Castle take a good night's
rest. For some time after no news was heard of her. But at the end of
five years the Exorciser died, and then the Nun ventured to peep abroad
again. However, She was now grown much more tractable and
well-behaved. She walked about in silence, and never made her
appearance above once in five years. This custom, if you will believe
the Baron, She still continues. He is fully persuaded, that on the
fifth of May of every fifth year, as soon as the Clock strikes One, the
Door of the haunted Chamber opens. (Observe, that this room has been
shut up for near a Century.) Then out walks the Ghostly Nun with her
Lamp and dagger: She descends the staircase of the Eastern Tower; and
crosses the great Hall! On that night the Porter always leaves the
Gates of the Castle open, out of respect to the Apparition: Not that
this is thought by any means necessary, since She could easily whip
through the Keyhole if She chose it; But merely out of politeness, and
to prevent her from making her exit in a way so derogatory to the
dignity of her Ghost-ship.'

'And whither does She go on quitting the Castle?'

'To Heaven, I hope; But if She does, the place certainly is not to her
taste, for She always returns after an hour's absence. The Lady then
retires to her chamber, and is quiet for another five years.'

'And you believe this, Agnes?'

'How can you ask such a question? No, no, Alphonso! I have too much
reason to lament superstition's influence to be its Victim myself.
However I must not avow my incredulity to the Baroness: She entertains
not a doubt of the truth of this History. As to Dame Cunegonda, my
Governess, She protests that fifteen years ago She saw the Spectre with
her own eyes. She related to me on