( 120 )
120)

till beheld the chamber where he really was, and, once or twice, ftarted from imperfect flumbers, imagining he faw a man's face, looking over the high back of his arm-chair. This idea had so ftrongly impreffed him, that, when he raised his eyes, he almoft expected to meet other eyes, fixed upon his own, and he quitted his feat and looked behind the chair, before he felt perfectly convinced, that no perfon was there.

Thus closed the hour.

CHAP.

CHA P. VII.

"Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber;
Thou haft no figures, nor no fantafies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou fleep'ft fo found."

SHAKESPEARE.

THE
HE Count, who had flept little during
the night, rofe early, and, anxious to speak
with Ludovico, went to the north apart-
ment; but, the outer door having been
fastened, on the preceding night, he was
obliged to knock loudly for admittance
Neither the knocking, or his voice, was
heard; but, confidering the diftance of this
door from the bed-room, and that Ludo-
vico, wearied with watching, had probably
fallen into a deep fleep, the Count was not
furprised on receiving no anfwer, and, leav-
ing the door, he went down to walk in his
grounds.

It was a gray autumnal morning. The
VOL. IV.

G

fun,

fun, rifing over Provence, gave only a feeble light, as his rays ftruggled through the vapours that afcended from the fea, and floated heavily over the wood-tops, which were now varied with many a mellow tint of autumn. The ftorm was paffed, but the waves were yet violently agitated, and their course was traced by long lines of foam, while not a breeze fluttered in the fails of the veffels, near the shore, that were weighing anchor to depart. The ftill gloom of the hour was pleafing to the Count, and he pursued his way through the woods, funk in deep thought.

Emily alfo rofe at an early hour, and took her customary walk along the brow of the promontory, that overhung the Mediterranean. Her mind was now not occupied with the occurrences of the chateau, and Valancourt was the fubject of her mournful thoughts; whom he had not yet taught herself to confider with indifference, though her judgment constantly reproached her for the affection, that lingered

in

in her heart, after her esteem for him was departed. Remembrance frequently gave her his parting look and the tones of his voice, when he had bade her a last farewel; and, fome accidental affociations now recalling these circumftances to her fancy, with peculiar energy, she shed bitter tears to the recollection.

Having reached the watch-tower, she feated herself on the broken steps, and, in melancholy dejection, watched the waves, half hid in vapour, as they came rolling towards the shore, and threw up their light fpray round the rocks below. Their hollow murmur and the obfcuring mifts, that came in wreaths up the cliffs, gave a folemnity to the scene, which was in harmony with the temper of her mind, and fhe fat, given up to the remembrance of past times, till this became too painful, and fhe abruptly quitted the place. On paffing the little gate of the watch-tower, fhe observed let ters, engraved on the ftone poftern, which fhe paused to examine, and, though they appeared

G 2

B

appeared to have been rudely cut with a pen-knife, the characters were familiar to her; at length, recognizing the hand-writing of Valancourt, fhe read, with trembling anxiety, the following lines, entitled

SHIPWRECK.

"Tis folemn midnight! On this lonely steep,
Beneath this watch-tow'r's defolated wall,
Where myftic fhapes the wonderer appall,
I reft; and view below the defert deep,

As through tempeftuous clouds the moon's cold light
Gleams on the wave. Viewlefs, the winds of night
With loud myfterious force the billows sweep,
And fullen roar the furges, far below.

In the still paufes of the guft I hear

The voice of spirits, rifing sweet and flow,

And oft among the clouds their forms appear.
But hark! what fhriek of death comes in the gale,
And in the diftant ray what glimmering fail

Bends to the ftorm ?--Now finks the note of fear!
Ah! wretched mariners!-no more shall day
Unclofe his cheering eye to light ye on your way!

From these lines it appeared, that Valancourt had vifited the tower; that he had probably been here on the preceding night,

for