Blanche was pale with attention, till the ridicule in her father's

glance called a blush upon her countenance, and she then endeavoured

to forget the superstitious tales she had been told in her convent.

Meanwhile, Emily had been listening with deep attention to the

discussion of what was to her a very interesting question, and,

remembering the appearance she had witnessed in the apartment of the

late Marchioness, she was frequently chilled with awe. Several times she

was on the point of mentioning what she had seen, but the fear of giving

pain to the Count, and the dread of his ridicule, restrained her; and,

awaiting in anxious expectation the event of Ludovico's intrepidity, she

determined that her future silence should depend upon it.

When the party had separated for the night, and the Count retired to

his dressing-room, the remembrance of the desolate scenes he had lately

witnessed in his own mansion deeply affected him, but at length he

was aroused from his reverie and his silence. 'What music is that I

hear?'--said he suddenly to his valet, 'Who plays at this late hour?'

The man made no reply, and the Count continued to listen, and then

added, 'That is no common musician; he touches the instrument with a

delicate hand; who is it, Pierre?' 'My lord!' said the man, hesitatingly. 'Who plays that instrument?' repeated the Count. 'Does not your lordship know, then?' said the valet. 'What mean you?' said the Count, somewhat sternly. 'Nothing, my Lord, I meant nothing,' rejoined the man

submissively--'Only--that music--goes about the house at midnight often,

and I thought your lordship might have heard it before.'

'Music goes about the house at midnight! Poor fellow!--does nobody dance

to the music, too?' 'It is not in the chateau, I believe, my Lord; the sounds come from the

woods, they say, though they seem so near;--but then a spirit can do any

thing!' 'Ah, poor fellow!' said the Count, 'I perceive you are as silly as the

rest of them; to-morrow, you will be convinced of your ridiculous error.

But hark!--what voice is that?' 'O my Lord! that is the voice we often hear with the music.' 'Often!' said the Count, 'How often, pray? It is a very fine one.'

'Why, my Lord, I myself have not heard it more than two or three times,

but there are those who have lived here longer, that have heard it often

enough.' 'What a swell was that!' exclaimed the Count, as he still listened, 'And

now, what a dying cadence!




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