As；　however；　it　was　not　yet　near　the　time　when　ghosts　are　to　be
  expected；　and　as　he　felt　very　tired；　he　drank　one　glass　of　the　wine；
  and　throwing　himself　on　the　couch；　drew　Euphra's　shawl　over　him；
  opened　his　book；　and　began　to　read。　　But　the　words　soon　vanished　in
  a　bewildering　dance；　and　he　slept。
  He　started　awake　in　that　agony　of　fear　in　which　I　suppose　most
  people　have　awaked　in　the　night；　once　or　twice　in　their　lives。　　He
  felt　that　he　was　not　alone。　　But　the　feeling　seemed；　when　he
  recalled　it；　to　have　been　altogether　different　from　that　with　which
  we　recognise　the　presence　of　the　most　unwelcome　bodily　visitor。　　The
  whole　of　his　nervous　skeleton　seemed　to　shudder　and　contract。　　Every
  sense　was　intensified　to　the　acme　of　its　acuteness；　while　the　powers
  of　volition　were　inoperative。　　He　could　not　move　a　finger。
  The　moment　in　which　he　first　saw　the　object　I　am　about　to　describe；
  he　could　not　recall。　　The　impression　made　seemed　to　have　been　too
  strong　for　the　object　receiving　it；　destroying　thus　its　own　traces；
  as　an　overheated　brand…iron　would　in　dry　timber。　　Or　it　may　be　that；
  after　such　a　pre…sensation；　the　cause　of　it　could　not　surprise　him。
  He　saw；　a　few　paces　off；　bending　as　if　looking　down　upon　him；　a　face
  which；　if　described　as　he　described　it；　would　be　pronounced　as　far
  past　the　most　liberal　boundary…line　of　art；　as　itself　had　passed
  beyond　that　degree　of　change　at　which　a　human　countenance　is　fit　for
  the　upper　world　no　longer；　and　must　be　hidden　away　out　of　sight。
  The　lips　were　dark；　and　drawn　back　from　the　closed　teeth；　which
  were　white　as　those　of　a　skull。　　There　were　spotsin　fact；　the　face
  corresponded　exactly　to　the　description　given　by　Funkelstein　of　the
  reported　ghost　of　Lady　Euphrasia。　　The　dress　was　point　for　point
  correspondent　to　that　in　the　picture。　　Had　the　portrait　of　Lady
  Euphrasia　been　hanging　on　the　wall　above；　instead　of　the　portrait　of
  the　unknown　nun；　Hugh　would　have　thought；　as　far　as　dress　was
  concerned；　that　it　had　come　alive；　and　stepped　from　its
  frameexcept　for　one　thing：　there　was　no　ring　on　the　thumb。
  It　was　wonderful　to　himself　afterwards；　that　he　should　have　observed
  all　these　particulars；　but　the　fact　was；　that　they　rather　burnt
  themselves　in　upon　his　brain；　than　were　taken　notice　of　by　him。
  They　returned　upon　him　afterwards　by　degrees；　as　one　becomes
  sensible　of　the　pain　of　a　wound。
  But　there　was　one　sign　of　life。　　Though　the　eyes　were　closed；　tears
  flowed　from　them；　and　seemed　to　have　worn　channels　for　their
  constant　flow　down　this　face　of　death；　which　ought　to　have　been
  lying　still　in　the　grave；　returning　to　its　dust；　and　was　weeping
  above　ground　instead。　　The　figure　stood　for　a　moment；　as　one　who
  would　gaze；　could　she　but　open　her　heavy；　death…rusted　eyelids。
  Then；　as　if　in　hopeless　defeat；　she　turned　away。　　And　then；　to
  crown　the　horror　literally　as　well　as　figuratively；　Hugh　saw　that
  her　hair　sparkled　and　gleamed　goldenly；　as　the　hair　of　a　saint
  might；　if　the　aureole　were　combed　down　into　it。　　She　moved　towards
  the　door　with　a　fettered　pace；　such　as　one　might　attribute　to　the
  dead　if　they　walked；to　the　dead　body；　I　say；　not　to　the　living
  ghost；　to　that　which　has　lain　in　the　prison…hold；　till　the　joints
  are　decayed　with　the　grave…damps；　and　the　muscles　are　stiff　with
  more　than　deathly　cold。　　She　dragged　one　limb　after　the　other　slowly
  and；　to　appearance；　painfully；　as　she　moved　towards　the　door　which
  Hugh　had　locked。
  When　she　had　gone　half…way　to　the　door；　Hugh；　lying　as　he　was　on　a
  couch；　could　see　her　feet；　for　her　dress　did　not　reach　the　ground。
  They　were　bare；　as　the　feet　of　the　dead　ought　to　be；　which　are
  about　to　tread　softly　in　the　realm　of　Hades；　But　how　stained　and
  mouldy　and　iron…spotted；　as　if　the　rain　had　been　soaking　through　the
  spongy　coffin；　did　the　dress　show　beside　the　pure　whiteness　of　those
  exquisite　feet！　　Not　a　sign　of　the　tomb　was　upon　them。　　Small；
  living；　delicately　formed；　Hugh；　could　he　have　forgot　the　face　they
  bore　above；　might　have　envied　the　floor　which　in　their　nakedness
  they　seemed　to　caress；　so　lingeringly　did　they　move　from　it　in　their
  noiseless　progress。
  She　reached　the　door；　put　out　her　hand；　and　touched　it。　　Hugh　saw　it
  open　outwards　and　let　her　through。　　Nor　did　this　strike　him　as　in
  the　smallest　degree　marvellous。　　It　closed　again　behind　her；
  noiseless　as　her　footfalls。
  The　moment　she　vanished；　the　power　of　motion　returned　to　him；　and
  Hugh　sprang　to　his　feet。　　He　leaped　to　the　door。　　With　trembling
  hand　he　inserted　the　key；　and　the　lock　creaked　as　he　turned　it。
  In　proof　of　his　being　in　tolerable　possession　of　his　faculties　at
  the　moment；　and　that　what　he　was　relating　to　me　actually　occurred；
  he　told　me　that　he　remembered　at　once　that　he　had　heard　that
  peculiar　creak；　a　few　moments　before　Euphra　and　he　discovered　that
  they　were　left　alone　in　this　very　chamber。　　He　had　never　thought　of
  it　before。
  Still　the　door　would　not　open：　it　was　bolted　as　well；　and　the　bolt
  was　very　stiff　to　withdraw。　　But　at　length　he　succeeded。
  When　he　reached　the　passage　outside；　he　thought　he　saw　the　glimmer
  of　a　light；　perhaps　in　the　picture…gallery　beyond。　　Towards　this　he
  groped　his　way。He　could　never　account　for　the　fact；　that　he　left
  the　candles　burning　in　the　room　behind　him　and　went　forward　into　the
  darkness；　except　by　supposing　that　his　wits　had　gone　astray；　in
  consequence　of　the　shock　the　apparition　had　occasioned　them。When
  he　reached　the　gallery；　there　was　no　light　there；　but　somewhere　in
  the　distance　he　saw；　or　fancied；　a　faint　shimmer。
  The　impulse　to　go　towards　it　was　too　strong　to　be　disputed　with。　　He
  advanced　with　outstretched　arms；　groping。　　After　a　few　steps；　he　had
  lost　all　idea　of　where　he　was；　or　how　he　ought　to　proceed　in　order
  to　reach　any　known　quarter。　　The　light　had　vanished。　　He　stood。Was
  that　a　stealthy　step　he　heard　beside　him　in　the　dark？　　He　had　no
  time　to　speculate；　for　the　next　moment　he　fell　senseless。
  CHAPTER　XXV。
  NEXT　MORNING。
  Darkness　is　fled：　look；　infant　morn　hath　drawn
  Bright　silver　curtains　'bout　the　couch　of　night；
  And　now　Aurora's　horse　trots　azure　rings；
  Breathing　fair　light　about　the　firmament。
  Stand；　what's　that？
  JOHN　MARSTON。Second　Part　of　Antonio　and　Mellida。
  When　he　came　to　himself；　it　was　with　a　slow　flowing　of　the　tide　of
  consciousness。　　His　head　ached。　　Had　he　fallen　down　stairs？or　had
  he　struck　his　head　against　some　projection；　and　so　stunned　himself？
  The　last　he　remembered　wasstanding　quite　still　in　the　dark；　and
  hearing　something。　　Had　he　been　knocked　down？　　He　could　not
  tell。Where　was　he？　　Could　the　ghost　have　been　all　a　dream？　and
  this　headache　be　nature's　revenge　upon　last　night's　wine？For　he
  lay　on　the　couch　in　the　haunted　chamber；　and　on　his　bosom　lay　the
  book　over　which　he　had　dropped　asleep。
  Mingled　with　all　this　doubt；　there　was　another。　　For　he　remembered
  that；　when　consciousness　first　returned；　he　felt　as　if　he　had　seen
  Euphra's　face　bending　down　close　over　his。Could　it　be　possible？
  Had　Euphra　herself　come　to　see　how　he　had　fared？The　room　lay　in
  the　grey　light　of　the　dawn；　but　Euphra　was　nowhere　visible。　　Could
  she　have　vanished　ashamed　through　the　secret　door？　　Or　had　she　been
  only　a　phantasy；　a　projection　outwards　of　the　form　that　dwelt　in　his
  brain；　a　phenomenon　often　occurring　when　the　last　of　sleeping　and
  the　first　of　waking　are　indistinguishably　blended　in　a　vague
  consciousness？
  But　if　it　was　so；　then　the　ghost？what　of　it？　　Had　not　his　brain；
  by　the　events　of　the　preceding　evening；　been　similarly　prepared　with
  regard　to　it？　　Was　it　not　more　likely；　after　all；　that　she　too　was
  the　offspring　of　his　own　imaginationthe　power　that　makes
  imagesespecially　when　considered；　that　she　exactly　corresponded　to
  the　description　given　by　the　Bohemian？But　had　he　not　observed　many
  points　at　which　the　Count　had　not　even　hinted？Still；　it　was　as
  natural　to　expect　that　an　excited　imagination　should　supply　the
  details　of　a　wholly　imaginary　spectacle；　as　that；　given　the　idea　of
  Euphra's　presence；　it　should　present　the　detail　of　her　countenance；
  for　the　creation　of　that　which　is　not；　belongs　as　much　to　the　realm
  of　the　imagination；　as　the　reproduction　of　that　which　is。
  It　seemed　very　strange　to　Hugh　himself；　that　he　should　be　able　thus
  to　theorize；　before　even　he　had　raised　himself　from　the　couch　on
  which；　perhaps；　after　all；　he　had　lain　without　moving；　throughout
  that　terrible　night；　swarming　with　the　horrors　of　the　dead　that
  would　not　sleep。　　But　the　long　unconsciousness；　in　which　he　had
  himself　visited　the　regions　of　death；　seemed　to　have　restored　him；
  in　spite　of　his　aching　head；　to　perfect　mental　equilibrium。　　Or；　at
  least；　his　brain　was　quiet　enough　to　let　his　mind　work。　　Still；　he
  felt　very　ghastly　within。　　He　raised　himself　on　his　elbow；　and
  looked　into　the　room。　　Everything　was　the　same　as　it　had　been　the
  night　before；　only　with　an　altered　aspect　in　the　dawn…light。　　The
  dawn　has　a　peculiar　terror　of　its　own；　sometimes　perhaps　even　more
  real　in　character；　but　very　different　from　the　terrors　of　the　night
  and　of　candle…light。　　The　room　looked　as　if　no　ghost　could　have
  passed　through　its　still　old　musty　atmosphere；　so　perfectly
  reposeful　d