I know not if the housekeeper spoke to me. The clouds thickened about the sun; a dampness came in from the air. I held the book, staring at it, like one in a trance, and pondering the strange coincidence. Evidently, Henry had read these verses when he last opened the book--perhaps the lovers had read them together, with a soft sigh for the fate of Margret, and a smile in each other's faces to think how safe _their_ happiness was--how far removed from this doleful "Romaunt." Now would he "open his dull eyes," for Eleanor's tears? I seemed to hear the low laugh of the mocking fiend; a more than wintry sereness settled upon the landscape: "_It_ trembled on the floor!" Yes! I was fast getting into the mood for believing any thing which Mrs. Scott might assert about the occupant of this chamber. Emotions which I had never before experienced chilled my heart; shapes began to gather in every obscure corner; when the rising wind suddenly blew a door shut, in the hall beneath, I started to my feet. "We're goin' to have a stormy Christmas," said my companion. "It'll suit our feelin's better'n a sunny one, I'm sure. Hark! there's my Johnny cryin', I do believe! I should think his father could keep him quiet a bit, till I get the house shut up again." "It was that cat, I thought." "Never mind. I'm through now, if you please, sir. Take a look at this room, and fix it on your mind, if you will; and the next time you're out here, we'll open it together." We reclosed and barred the shutters throughout the house, carefully fastened the doors, once more leaving it to its desolation. We had seen no ghosts; I do not suppose the woman expected to _see_ any, but I felt certain that her fears were in no manner dispelled. "You see the place is all right," I said, when I handed her the keys. "There is nothing in the world to make you uneasy. I would as soon sleep alone in the villa as in my own room. I will do it, soon, if you are not satisfied. All I ask of you is not to write to Mr. Moreland until I have seen you again. I shall come out before many days, to see how you get along." "We shall wait until you come again, sir, before we say any thing. I feel better, now things are 'tended to. There's Johnny crying again! Well, Mr. Redfield, good-by. It'll snow by the time you get home." I had a wild walk back to the village--full of lonely magnificence and gloom, which suited my temper. Gray mists hung over the river and swept about the bases of the hills; gray clouds whirled around their summits; gray snow came down in blinding drifts; a savage wind seemed to be blowing the universe about my ears. CHAPTER XI. THE LITTLE GUEST AND THE APPARITION.