gloomy; she wrung her hands, "What will become of me, unhappy as I am, where can I fly? who will receive a poor unfortunate, without family or friends? the little money I have will be soon exhausted, and what is to be the fate of poor Albert, who has left all to follow me!" Overcome with sorrow, she wept aloud. When, turning her eyes to the window, she saw a light glide by from the opposite wing, which her room fronted, and which Bertha had informed her was particularly haunted. At first she thought it was imagination; she arose and placed her candle in the chimney; curiosity suspended sorrow—she returned and seated herself at the window, and very soon after she saw a faint glimmering light pass a second time; exceedingly surprised, but not terrified, she continued in her situation: she saw nothing further. She at length determined to go to rest, but with an intention to visit every part of the house the following day. She got into bed, but could not sleep. About twelve o'clock she heard plainly a clanking of chains, whichwas