no more. Upon this strange circumstance
her thoughts were long engaged, for strange it certainly was to hear
music at midnight, when every inhabitant of the castle had long since
retired to rest, and in a place, where nothing like harmony had been
heard before, probably, for many years. Long-suffering had made her
spirits peculiarly sensible to terror, and liable to be affected by the
illusions of superstition.--It now seemed to her, as if her dead father
had spoken to her in that strain, to inspire her with comfort and
confidence, on the subject, which had then occupied her mind. Yet reason
told her, that this was a wild conjecture, and she was inclined to
dismiss it; but, with the inconsistency so natural, when imagination
guides the thoughts, she then wavered towards a belief as wild. She
remembered the singular event, connected with the castle, which had
given it into the possession of its present owner; and, when she
considered the mysterious manner, in which its late possessor had
disappeared, and that she had never since been heard of, her mind was
impressed with an high degree of solemn awe; so that, though there
appeared no clue to connect that event with the late music, she was
inclined fancifully to think they had some relation to each other. At
this conjecture, a sudden chillness ran through her frame; she looked
fearfully upon the duskiness of her chamber, and the dead silence, that
prevailed there, heightened to her fancy its gloomy aspect.

At length, she left the casement, but her steps faltered, as she
approached the bed, and she stopped and looked round. The single lamp,
that burned in her spacious chamber, was expiring; for a moment, she
shrunk from the darkness beyond; and then, ashamed of the weakness,
which, however, she could not wholly conquer, went forward to the bed,
where her mind did not soon know the soothings of sleep. She still mused
on the late occurrence, and looked with anxiety to the next night, when,
at the same hour, she determined to watch whether the music returned.
'If those sounds were human,' said she, 'I shall probably hear them
again.'

CHAPTER XII

Then, oh, you blessed ministers above,
Keep me in patience; and, in ripen'd time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
In countenance.
SHAKESPEARE

Annette came almost breathless to Emily's apartment in the morning. 'O
ma'amselle!' said she, in broken sentences, 'what news I have to tell! I
have found out