Was it the disembodied spirit of Arondelle? _Could_ the spirit of a living man appear in one place, while the body of the man was present in another? She had heard and read of such wonders, yet she could not accept them as facts. No, this was no spirit. What then? Had she been the subject of an optical illusion? She had heard of those wonders also! But no! This was too real, too solid, too substantial for an optical illusion! Was the form she had seen possibly that of some other person, some guest of the house, who had lost his way. No, and a thousand noes! She knew every guest staying at the castle, and knew that not one of them bore the slightest resemblance to the Marquis of Arondelle. No, the form that she had seen in the murky hall seemed that of her betrothed husband, or it was his spirit. She could not tell which, nor could she test the question now. The house was full of wedding guests, who were now most probably sound asleep in their beds. And the household all had long since retired. She could not rouse them only to satisfy her own doubts without any other practical result. For what if the intruder were Lord Arondelle? He was not in the least an objectional guest. And in the morning he would explain his strange presence. By this time Salome had reasoned herself into some degree of calmness. But she was still too much excited to feel sleepy or to think of retiring to bed. The mid-summer night was warm and close, even there in the Highlands--or in her nervous condition it seemed to her to be so. She wanted more air. She went to the window, and seated herself in an easy-chair, and looked out. A heavenly night! The deep-blue sky was spangled with myriads of sparkling stars. The full harvest moon was at the zenith and pouring down a flood of silvery radiance over mountain, lake and island. Right opposite the window was the elegant little bridge that spanned the lake between the island and the mountain, at the base of which stood the little Gothic church with the cottages of the hamlet clustered around it. A beautiful scene! This morning it had been gay and noisy with a rejoicing crowd come to inspect the decorated grounds, and to triumph over the approaching marriage of their disinherited young lord, with the present heiress of his lost estate. To-morrow this scene would be even more gay and more noisy, with a greater and more rejoicing crowd. For all the Clan Scott were to gather here to do honor to the nuptials of their hereditary chieftain. But to-night the beautiful scene was holy in its solitude and stillness. Hark! A sound of voices beneath the window. Salome started, and drew back. And the next moment, paralyzed by consternation and despair, she overheard the following conversation: "_Hist!_ are you there, Rose?" inquired a dear familiar voice.