a wild and melancholy glare. Remotely the third quarter sounded from a dull and heavy tower clock. William put the casting ladle upon the coals, and threw the lead into it, together with three balls, which had already hit their mark, according to the huntsman’s usage: then the forest began to be in motion; the night ravens, owls, and bats, fluttered up and down, blinded by the glare of light. They fell from their boughs, and placed themselves among the bones around the circle, where, with hollow croakings and wild jabberings, they held an unintelligible conversation with the skulls. Momentarily their numbers increased, and among and above them hovered pale cloudy forms, some shaped like animals, some like human beings. The gusts of wind sported frightfully with their dusky vapoury forms, scattering and reuniting them like the dews of the evening shades. One form alone stood motionlesss and unchanged near the circle, gazing with fixed and woful looks at William; once it lifted up its pale hands in sorrow, and seemed to sigh. The fire burned gloomily at the moment; but a large grey owl flapped its wings, and fanned the dying embers into light. William turned shivering away; for the countenance of his
