The world has always been full of tales of woman's fickleness, and Edward had heard them,--tales in which her firmness and her truth are often forgotten altogether. But speedily came better thoughts and nobler confidence. Lucette was full of gentleness, was of a tender, loving nature, he knew; but he thought he had remarked, in the various scenes through which they had passed,--scenes well calculated to try a young girl to the utmost,--a strength, a constancy of purpose which bade him trust. "She will not abandon me," he thought. "She will not bestow that love upon another which was first mine,--is mine by right. Dear, beautiful girl! there is truth and enduring love in those clear, liquid eyes. Oh that I could see her again but for one moment! Oh for one embrace, one kiss!" The day declined, and night came on. They brought the invalid the scanty supper that was allowed him, and, an hour or two after, Pierrot came to take away the light; for Edward, who had slept very lightly for several nights, had expressed a wish that the night-lamp and the good folks who had hitherto watched him might be withdrawn. He thought he should rest better, he said, if he were quite alone and in darkness. He was not mistaken. From ten till twelve he slept more soundly than he had done for many days. He heard the abbey clock strike twelve, however, but it was but a momentary interruption of his slumber; and he was turning round to sleep again, when the door of the chamber creaked a little upon its hinges. The room was large and the windows well shaded; but, as Edward lay with his face toward the door, he could see a gleam of moonlight partly interrupted at the doorway, and he gazed to discover who was coming in. The figure was small, the garments those of a woman; and the youth thought, "One of the good sisters, to see if I am sleeping well. She means it kindly; but I wish she had not come." Unwilling to have any conversation, he shut his eyes again and affected to be still asleep; but the door was gently closed, and then a light footfall crossed the floor. It stopped near his bedside, and then a hand lightly touched him; for the room was very dark, and probably the visitor, whoever it was, did not see any thing distinctly. "This is strange," thought Edward: "the sisters commonly have a lamp with them."