Supper was soon after announced, and we were all marshaled into the dining-room, where a sumptuous feast was spread, over which we lingered, eating and drinking, with epicurean leisure, and talking and laughing for more than an hour. I said we--but I should rather say they--for I could not eat, or talk, or laugh. At last the long-drawn meal came to an end. The company adjourned to the drawing-room, and an hour was passed in pleasant conversation, and then, in consideration of the fatigue of the newly-arrived guests, we separated for the night. In the hall I noticed a diminutive page, of the African race, who rejoiced in the chivalric name of Emmanuel Philibert, which was adapted to daily and popular use by the abbreviative of Phlit. Phlit was standing, and solemnly holding a light in one hand and a bootjack in the other, waiting to attend the two gentlemen to their bedroom. But Mr. Legare took upon himself the office of groom of the chambers, and accompanied his latest guests to their apartment. Rachel Noales and myself reached ours about the same time. We heard the voice of Mr. Legare taking leave of the gentlemen for the night; we heard him and the little waiter Phlit, go downstairs and out at the hall door, fastening it after them. "I will take care that this is secured to-night," said Rachel, going and carefully locking our door, and then trying it to be sure that it was fast. "That will do," she said, when she had satisfied herself of its security. Then, as we were very weary, we prepared to retire. We were soon in bed. Rachel was soon asleep. Not so myself. I lay perfectly still, almost breathless, waiting the developments of the night. And, reader, it was while lying thus wide awake, and gazing straight out through the window to the spot where the family tombstones gleamed white and spectral in the moonlight among the dark firs, that my ear was struck by the click of the recoiling lock, and, turning, I saw the door swing slowly open and my dark-robed midnight visitant enter. Though wide awake as at this moment, I was deprived, by excess of awe, of the power of speech or motion. Slowly the spectre advanced and stood as before, pointing to the dark-red spot hid beneath the carpet under her feet. I essayed once more to speak to her, but such terror as her presence had never before inspired froze my utterance. I listened, wondering if my companion in the other bed was conscious of this supernatural presence in the room; but the deep and regular breathing of Rachel assured me that she was sleeping soundly, the deep sleep of fatigue.