"Thus the belief was firmly impressed on my mind, that my mother every day held conversations with some frightful spectre, whom, even to look upon, would, to any one else, be death. (As to religious instructions, they were, of course, yet wholly beyond my comprehension.) One day, after rambling through the castle, I was horrified to find myself alone in the blue cabinet which had been alluded to by Hermogen. "I should instantly have taken refuge in flight, but my mother came in with a deadly paleness on her countenance, and without observing me, (for I stood in a corner,) in a deep melancholy tone, she pronounced the name, 'Francesco--Francesco!' There was then a strange rustling and rattling behind the oak pannels of the wall. The boards began to move, and drew themselves asunder. I then saw a full-length portrait, so admirably painted, that it had all the animation of life, representing a man in a foreign dress, with a dark violet-coloured mantle. "The figure and expressive countenance of this unknown, made on me an indescribable impression, which I never afterwards forgot. My admiration was such that I could no longer be silent, but uttered an exclamation of joy, which, for the first time, made my mother aware of my presence. Her temper, which was generally mild and equable, was now more ruffled than on any former occasion.--'What would'st thou here, Aurelia?' said she, in an angry tone; 'who brought thee hither?'--'They left me all alone,' cried I, bursting into tears. 'I know not how I came hither, and had no wish to be here!' "Meanwhile the pannels were again put in motion, and the portrait disappeared.--'Alas!' said I, 'the beautiful picture--Mother, dearest mother, why is it gone?'--The Baroness lifted me up in her arms, and caressed me.--'Thou art my dear good child,' said she; 'but no one must see that picture, nor speak of its having been there. It is now gone, Aurelia, and will never come again!' "Accordingly, as long as I remembered this warning, I intrusted to no one what I had observed in the mysterious blue cabinet. Only to Hermogen, I once said--'Dearest brother, it is not with the devil, as you supposed, that our mother speaks, but with a young handsome man. However, he is only a picture, and starts out of the wall when she calls for him.'--'The devil,' answered Hermogen, with a fixed serious look, 'may look as he will,--so says our father confessor. But as to the Baroness, he dare no longer trouble her!'--Horror seized on me at these words, and I begged of Hermogen, that he never would speak of the devil again.