"I had been musing for some moments, with my head resting upon my hand, when, happening to raise my eyes, I beheld a figure immediately before me. I was astonished at the sight, for I had perceived no one approach--had heard no footstep advance towards me, and was satisfied that no one besides myself could be in the garden. The presence of the figure inspired me with an undefinable awe! and, I can scarce tell why, but a thrilling presentiment convinced me that it was a supernatural visitant. Without motion--without life--without substance, it seemed; yet still the outward character of life was there. I started to my feet. God! what did I behold? The face was turned to me--my father's face! And what an aspect, what a look! Time can never efface that terrible expression; it is graven upon my memory--I cannot describe it. It was not anger--it was not pain: it was as if an eternity of woe were stamped upon its features. It was too dreadful to behold, I would fain have averted my gaze--my eyes were fascinated--fixed--I could not withdraw them from the ghastly countenance. I shrank from it, yet stirred not--I could not move a limb. Noiselessly gliding towards me, the apparition approached. I could not retreat. It stood obstinately beside me. I became as one half-dead. The phantom shook its head with the deepest despair; and as the word 'Return!' sounded hollowly in my ears, it gradually melted from my view. I cannot tell how I recovered from the swoon into which I fell, but daybreak saw me on my way to England. I am here. On that night--at that same hour, my father died." "It was, after all, then, a supernatural summons that you received?" said Small. "Undoubtedly," replied Ranulph. "Humph!--the coincidence, I own, is sufficiently curious," returned Small, musingly; "but it would not be difficult, I think, to discover a satisfactory explanation of the delusion." "There was no delusion," replied Ranulph, coldly; "the figure was as palpable as your own. Can I doubt, when I behold this result? Could any deceit have been practised upon me, at that distance?--the precise time, moreover, agreeing. Did not the phantom bid me return?--I _have_ returned--he is dead. I have gazed upon a being of another world. To doubt were impious, after that look." "Whatever my opinions may be, my dear young friend," returned Small, gravely, "I will suspend them for the present. You are still greatly excited. Let me advise you to seek some repose." "I am easier," replied Ranulph; "but you are right, I will endeavor to snatch a little rest. Something within tells me all is not yet accomplished. What remains?--I shudder to think of it. I will rejoin you at midnight. I shall myself attend the solemnity. Adieu!" Ranulph quitted the room. Small sighingly shook his head, and having lighted his pipe, was presently buried in a profundity of smoke and metaphysical speculation. _CHAPTER XI_ _LADY ROOKWOOD_