nd returned to the other room,
musing upon the sudden opening of the Closet door, for which He strove
in vain to account.

He paced the chamber up and down in silence. At length He stopped, and
the Bed attracted his attention. The curtain of the Recess was but
half-drawn. He sighed involuntarily.

'That Bed,' said He in a low voice, 'That Bed was Elvira's! There has
She past many a quiet night, for She was good and innocent. How sound
must have been her sleep! And yet now She sleeps sounder! Does She
indeed sleep? Oh! God grant that She may! What if She rose from her
Grave at this sad and silent hour? What if She broke the bonds of the
Tomb, and glided angrily before my blasted eyes? Oh! I never could
support the sight! Again to see her form distorted by dying agonies,
her blood-swollen veins, her livid countenance, her eyes bursting from
their sockets with pain! To hear her speak of future punishment,
menace me with Heaven's vengeance, tax me with the crimes I have
committed, with those I am going to commit ..... Great God! What is
that?'

As He uttered these words, his eyes which were fixed upon the Bed, saw
the curtain shaken gently backwards and forwards. The Apparition was
recalled to his mind, and He almost fancied that He beheld Elvira's
visionary form reclining upon the Bed. A few moments consideration
sufficed to reassure him.

'It was only the wind,' said He, recovering himself.

Again He paced the chamber; But an involuntary movement of awe and
inquietude constantly led his eye towards the Alcove. He drew near it
with irresolution. He paused before He ascended the few steps which led
to it. He put out his hand thrice to remove the curtain, and as often
drew it back.

'Absurd terrors!' He cried at length, ashamed of his own weakness----

Hastily he mounted the steps; When a Figure drest in white started from
the Alcove, and gliding by him, made with precipitation towards the
Closet. Madness and despair now supplied the Monk with that courage,
of which He had till then been destitute. He flew down the steps,
pursued the Apparition, and attempted to grasp it.

'Ghost, or Devil, I hold you!' He exclaimed, and seized the Spectre by
the arm.

'Oh! Christ Jesus!' cried a shrill voice; 'Holy Father, how you gripe
me! I protest that I meant no harm!'

This address, as well as the arm which He held, convinced the Abbot
that the supposed Ghost was substantial flesh and blood. He drew the