The family of Mr. Montagu retired early to rest at the close of the eventful day we have been speaking of, hoping to lose in sleep the remembrance of the harassing events they had so lately witnessed. Lord Edmund had returned soon after the disappearance of the Mummy; but he had locked himself in his chamber, and had refused to see any one, his mind being too much agitated for him to endure the common forms of society. All was soon quiet throughout the mansion. It was midnight when a tall figure wrapped in a large cloak, appeared slowly gliding with catlike steps through the garden of Mr. Montagu. It cautiously avoided the light, and crept along the shadiest walks and thickest allies, carefully shrouding itself from observation, and endeavouring, by availing itself of the shelter of the trees, the better to conceal its movements. It has been already stated that the garden of Mr. Montagu was only separated from that of the duke by a terrace very little used; the door, indeed, leading to it from Mr. Montagu's premises, had been so long closed up, as to be nearly forgotten, and yet it was towards this unfrequented spot that the mysterious figure directed its course. The long neglected door slowly opened, and the stream of light it admitted, was obscured for a moment by a passing shade; and then all seemed dark, silent, and mysterious as before. "It certainly went that way," said a voice, the preciseness of which marked it as belonging to Abelard; "and it was a real, tangible, material form, as I saw its shadow intercept the light when the door was opened and it passed through." "It is quite impossible," cried Evelina, one of Mrs. Montagu's housemaids, who having been induced by the inconstant butler to take a ramble with him by moonlight, had also witnessed this strange apparition; "you must be mistaken Mr. Abelard, for that door has not been opened this age. It is even nailed up, as you may see yourself if you examine it." "It is very strange," said Abelard, after he had tried the door and found it immovable; "I certainly saw it open." "It must have been an optical delusion, Mr. Abelard," said Evelina; "the retina of the eye is sometimes strangely affected, and represents objects quite different to what they really are." "I must consult Father Morris about it to-morrow," resumed the butler; "for it was certainly the Mummy spectre." "La! do you think so, Mr. Abelard?" said Evelina, turning pale; "why then didn't you speak to it." "I will if it comes again," returned Abelard. "Oh! there it is!" cried Evelina; and the worthy pair flew back to the house, screaming in concert, and without once daring to look behind them. Scarcely, however, had the last echo of their footsteps died away upon the ear, when the figure emerged from the recess in which it had lain concealed, and again crept slowly towards the door leading into the garden of the duke.