the pavilion. The pale light of the lamp illumined Berta's countenance, shedding around it a fantastic light that made the surrounding darkness seem more intense.
The nurse felt herself drawn along by Berta; she walked mechanically; a power stronger than her terror impelled her.
In this way they crossed the garden and reached the door of the pavilion. There Berta stopped, and called softly:
"Adrian!"
But there was no response to her call.
Then they entered the pavilion.
Juana caught hold of Berta to keep from falling, and closed her eyes
The light of the lamp illumined the pavilion, whose solitude seemed startled by this unexpected visit; the piano was open and mute.
"No one!" exclaimed Berta, sighing.
"No one," repeated Juana, opening her eyes.
And so it was; the pavilion was empty.
It is beyond a doubt that Berta's piano has the marvellous quality of making its strings sound without the intervention of the human hand. And this being the case, it must be admitted that this marvellous instrument is, in addition, a consummate musician, for it plays with the skill attained only by great artists.
But since Nurse Juana cannot conceive how a
