At the usual time Roseline and her brother revisited the interesting object of her compassion. He expressed such rapture at seeing them, and made so many acknowledgements for their friendship, that their minds became insensibly harmonized, and their attention engaged. Edwin now for the first time proposed removing his friend from the dungeon to the haunted chamber, which no one dared to approach, and which we before mentioned as having an entrance from the South tower. Roseline obtained permission of her mother to keep possession of the apartment into which she had accompanied Madeline; therefore they thought his removal could be easily accomplished without any risk of a discovery. It was agreed that Albert should attend the cells in order to take away the provision regularly carried there. All these matters settled, the following evening was appointed for the accomplishment of their purpose, at the same time Edwin cherished the most sanguine hopes that, with the assistance of Albert, and by means of the subterraneous passage, he might sometimes obtain a stolen interview with Madeline. The next night Edwin, his sister, and Albert, accompanied the prisoner to his destined apartment; but to describe his gratitude and joy, at finding himself in a situation so comfortable and airy, would be impossible. Every thing was new and delightful, and in the morning, when the light (which but dimly enlivened his chamber on his arrival) broke in upon his astonished sight, his raptures were alarming, and his faithful attendant, with the utmost difficulty, prevailed on him to confine them within the bounds of moderation, and cautiously to indulge himself in looking at objects so surprising, but to other people so familiar, they they seldom could spare a moment to contemplate them. When he viewed the sun, from one of the windows of his room, rising in its utmost splendor, had not Albert prevented him, he had fallen on his knees, and worshipped the brilliant luminary.--He observed the birds with ecstacy, as they lightly skimmed through the boundless regions of the air, and listened with a kind of throbbing agitation as the lark warbled forth her morning oraisons, and, not till he had shed tears, could he reduce his feelings to any degree of composure. He admired the trees; his eyes rested on some of the distant hills, and he told Albert he did not think the world had been so large and fine a place. He next amused himself with looking round his apartment, and at every little interval gave way to the effusions of genuine transport.