At length, in a low and subdued tone, I addressed the figure.

"Spirit, whate'er thou art or wert, whether of good or evil, whether
from the regions of the blest or the haunts of the damned, speak!
Declare thy mission."

A hollow moan proceeded from the trunk of the headless figure, and the
eyes in the head held under its arm rolled upwards with a look of
despair, while in tones low, solemn, yet sweet, it spoke, the lips
vibrating, though the voice came from the neck.

"I am the spirit of one who, dying in mortal sin, am doomed to perpetual
unrest. Beheaded for my crimes in this world, I wander nightly round
this spot, the scene of my infamy. Here where this house now stands once
stood the convent whose walls imprisoned me while yet on earth. Forced
into a life of seclusion for which I had no calling by a relentless
parent who, deeming that his daughter's alliance with the man she loved
would sully his illustrious name, I was compelled to utter vows with my
lips against which my heart revolted.

"I could not join in the pious oraisons of my sister nuns, for while my
knees bent and my lips moved my spirit was elsewhere. Day after day I
languished within my prison walls, mechanically going through my duties
with the rest, but to all outward seeming with devotion, for not one of
them knew but that I myself had chosen that calling.

"None knew then what I bore within. I made no friends, sought no
confidant. When I confessed, my confessions were always of a vague sort,
for I was reserved on that one point which, if confessed, would have
been regarded as the most heinous crime.

"At length our father confessor, who was an old man, died, and a new
priest took his place.

"Holy Virgin! it was my lover. He had discovered my whereabouts, and,
with no holier object than the desire to see me again, he had entered
into holy orders, and by stratagem contrived to enter our convent."

Here the figure gave a deep sigh, and paused. The face writhed, as if
struggling with itself, whether it should proceed or remain silent. The
pause was agonising, but I wished to hear more.

"Proceed," I said.

Another deep sigh ensued, and she continued.

"Mortal," she said with evident reluctance, "you will despise me when
you have heard the full extent of my crime. No matter, I am not what I
was--I can bear it. Know, then, that I fell. Ay, blush for me, hate,
loathe, despise me as thou wilt. Those holy walls which re-echoed for
ages with