e chamber under the low sloping roof--the chamber that had
been the chamber of death--and looked beyond the embowering cherry trees
upon the sky; or at dead of night sat under his lamp pondering over his
books--always, everywhere, he listened--listened for the voice and the
foot-falls of Virginia as he had listened in his earlier days for the
voice and the footfalls of the mythical "Ligeia." For had she not
promised that she would watch over him in spirit and, if possible, give
him frequent indications of her presence--sighing upon him in the
evening winds or filling the air which he breathed with perfume from the
censers of the angels?

And her promises were faithfully kept, for often as he listened he heard
the sounds of the swinging of the censers of the angels, and streams of
a holy perfume floated about him, and when his heart beat heavily the
winds that bathed his brow came to him laden with soft sighs, and
indistinct murmurs filled the night air.

* * * * *

And so the green spring and the flowery summer passed, and autumn drew
on.

Then came a day of days--a soft October day when merely to exist was to
be happy and to hope. And new life, like some sweet, rejuvenating
cordial seemed to enter and course through the veins of The Dreamer and
for the first time since the Silence and the Solitude had enveloped the
cottage he laughed as he flung wide the windows of the chamber that had
been the chamber of death, to let in the day. And as he looked forth he
said, again quoting the words of his "Morella,"

"The winds lie still in heaven. There is a dim moisture over all the
earth and a warm glow upon the waters, and upon the forest a rainbow--a
bow of promise--from the firmament has surely fallen. It is not a day
for sorrow but for joy, for it is a day out of Aidenn itself, and I feel
that ere it has passed I shall hold sweeter, more real communion with
her that is in Aidenn than ever before."

He went forth and wandered through the radiance of that perfect day
hours on hours, and as he paced the solemn aisles of the pine wood, or
strolled along the river walk which was veiled in a golden haze and
carpeted thick with the yellow and crimson and brown leaves of October,
he heard, clearly, the sound of the swinging of the censers of the
angels, as his senses were bathed in the holy perfume, and the zephyrs
that blew about his brow were laden with audible sweet murmurs.

As evening fell