alf-defiant, half-fearful, as if he
expected to see some dreadful form in the dusky recesses of the desolate
chamber. He sat himself by the smouldering fire, in somber and agitated
rumination. He was restless; he rose again, unbuckled his sword, which he
had not loosed since evening, and threw it hastily into a corner. He
looked at his watch, it was half-past twelve; he glanced at the door, and
thence at the cabinet in which he had placed the key; then he turned
hastily, and sate down again. He leaned his elbows on his knees, and his
chin upon his clenched hand; still he was restless and excited. Once more
he arose, and paced up and down. He consulted his watch again; it was now
but a quarter to one.

Sir Wynston's man having received the letters, and his master's
permission to retire to rest, got into his bed, and was soon beginning to
dose. We have already mentioned that his and Sir Wynston's apartments
were separated by a small dressing room, so that any ordinary noise or
conversation could be heard but imperfectly from one to the other. The
servant, however, was startled by a sound of something falling on the
floor of his master's apartment, and broken to pieces by the violence of
the shock. He sate up in his bed, listened, and heard some sentences
spoken vehemently, and gabbled very fast. He thought he distinguished the
words "wretch" and "God"; and there was something so strange in the tone
in which they were spoken, that the man got up and stole noiselessly
through the dressing room, and listened at the door.

He heard him, as he thought, walking in his slippers through the room,
and making his customary arrangements previously to getting into bed. He
knew that his master had a habit of speaking when alone, and concluded
that the accidental breakage of some glass or chimney-ornament had
elicited the volley of words he had heard. Well knowing that, except at
the usual hours, or in obedience to Sir Wynston's bell, nothing more
displeased his master than his presuming to enter his sleeping-apartment
while he was there, the servant quietly retreated, and, perfectly
satisfied that all was right, composed himself to slumber, and was soon
beginning to dose again.

The adventures of the night, however, were not yet over. Waking, as men
sometimes do, without any ascertainable cause; without a start or an
uneasy sensation; without even a disturbance of the attitude of repose,
he opened his eyes and beheld Merton, the ser