he is he must
immediately be gone; whatever business he is engaged in he must
instantly leave it. The terrible sound of the hour of midnight tears
him from the arms of friendship, wrests him from the altar, and would
drag him away even in the agonies of death. Whither he then goes, or
what he is then engaged in, is a secret to every one. No person
ventures to interrogate, still less to follow him. His features, at
this dread ful hour, assume a sternness of expression so gloomy and
terrifying that no person has courage sufficient to look him in the
face, or to speak a word to him. However lively the conversation may
have been, a dead silence immediately succeeds it, and all around wait
for his return in respectful silence without venturing to quit their
seats, or to open the door through which he has passed."

"Does nothing extraordinary appear in his person when he returns?"
inquired one of our party.

"Nothing, except that he seems pale and exhausted, like a man who has
just suffered a painful operation, or received some disastrous
intelligence. Some pretend to have seen drops of blood on his linen,
but with what degree of veracity I cannot affirm."

"Did no person ever attempt to conceal the approach of this hour from
him, or endeavor to preoccupy his mind in such a manner as to make him
forget it?"

"Once only, it is said, he missed the appointed time. The company was
numerous and remained together late in the night. All the clocks and
watches were purposely set wrong, and the warmth of conversation carried
him away. When the stated hour arrived he suddenly became silent and
motionless; his limbs continued in the position in which this instant
had arrested them; his eyes were fixed; his pulse ceased to beat. All
the means employed to awake him proved fruitless, and this situation
endured till the hour had elapsed. He then revived on a sudden without
any assistance, opened his eyes, and resumed his speech at the very
syllable which he was pronouncing at the moment of interruption. The
general consternation discovered to him what had happened, and he
declared, with an awful solemnity, that they ought to think themselves
happy in having escaped with the fright alone. The same night he
quitted forever the city where this circumstance had occurred. The
common opinion is that during this mysterious hour he converses with his
genius. Some even suppose him to be one of the departed who is allowed
to pass twenty-three ho