Susan crossed the hall and entered her own chamber, which was even more scantily furnished than the other rooms. There was a wide fire-place filled with evergreens and flanked by two closets, as in the others. And there was a four-post bedstead with a bed well made up and covered with a comfortable blue and white check counterpane; and there was an arm-chair and a table upon which stood a quadrant, a compass, an old chronometer, Bouditch’s Navigation, and other sailors’ belongings. On the mantle-piece were various curiosities, such as a mummy’s hand, a New Zealander’s skull, a Chinese woman’s skeleton foot, and other such enlivening articles of virtu, collected by the late Captain Brande, in his various voyages. “Ugh! it’s enough to chill one’s blood, even without the ghost of the white-robed lady! Well! it’s a comfort at last that one can say their prayers,” said Susan, looking around upon the weird scene. “And as I hope to be saved,” she added, as she examined the room—“there are no shutters outside the windows, and no curtains within! So that if the ghost of Blanche chooses to look in through the panes of glass I shall have to shut my eyes to avoid seeing her! Well, praise be to Heaven there remains prayer at least, and no one can be very much afraid who prays very hard!” And with this consoling conclusion, Susan examined the bed, and finding the sheets all fresh and sweet, hastily undressed herself, said her prayers, put out the candle, and jumped into bed. But she could not sleep. Reason with herself as she might, the utter isolation of the house, the emptiness of all the chambers, the profound solitude of her own room; the vague dread of runaway negroes, of whose occasional acts of violence she had sometimes read with horror; the story of the white-robed lady, whose ghost was said to wander through the house and grounds;—thoughts that at noon day, or in company, would have moved her mirthful scorn, now at midnight when she was alone, filled her heart with superstitious terror, which she could neither explain nor discard. On the right hand of her bed was a large window, unprotected by either curtain or blind, and as often, as in her restless tossing about, she turned to that side, the whole outer scene in that direction was visible to her. And such a scene! a table land, with here and there a solitary spectral pine, or cedar-tree, and in the midst an old family graveyard, with ghostly tombstones gleaming dimly white under the clouded starlight. The sea was not visible, but its monotonous and mournful murmur was all but too audible, and formed a strangely appropriate accompaniment to the gloomy aspect. At each turning, and each glance out upon the wild, dark landscape, Susan grew more nervous, and consequently more superstitious and fearful.