“But how, said I, when the morning comes, shall I be convinced that your appearance to me thus has been real, and not the mere phantom of my imagination.’ ‘Will not the news of my death, (said he) be sufficient to convince you?’ ‘No (returned I,) I might have had such a dream, and that dream might accidentally come to pass; I must have stronger proofs of its reality.’ ‘You shall,’ said he; then waving his hand, the bed curtains, which were of crimson velvet, were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop, by which the tester of the bed, which was of an oval form, was suspended: ‘In that (said he) you cannot be mistaken; no mortal could have performed this.’ ‘True, (said I) but sleeping we are often possessed of far greater strength than awake; though awake I could not have done it, asleep I might. I shall still doubt.’ He then said, ‘You have a pocket-book, on the leaves of which I will write: you know my handwriting.’ I replied ‘Yes.’ He wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. ‘Still, (said I) in the morning, I doubt, though awake I may not imitate your hand, asleep I might.’ ‘You are born of belief, I must not touch you, it would injure you irreparably, it is not for spirits to touch mortal33 flesh.’ I do not mind a small blemish,’ said I. ‘You are a woman of spirit, (said he) hold out your hand.’ I did; he touched my wrist; his hand was as cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrunk up, every nerve withered. ‘Now (said he) while you live, let no mortal eye behold that wrist, to see it will be sacrilege.’ He stopped; I turned to him again—he was gone. During the time in which I had conversed with him, my thoughts were perfectly calm and collected, but the moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, and a cold sweat came over me; every limb and joint shook under me; I endeavored to awake Sir M. but in vain; all my efforts were ineffectual. In this state of agitation I lay some time, when a shower of tears came to my relief, and I droped asleep. In the morning Sir Marcus arose and dressed himself as usual, without perceiving the state in which the curtains remained. When I awoke, I found Sir Marcus was gone down. I arose, and having put on my clothes, went into the gallery adjoining our apartment, and took from thence a long broom, such a one as in a large house is frequently used to sweep the cornices, with the help of which, though not without difficulty, I took down the curtains, as I imagined their extraordinary position would excite wonder among the servants, and occasion inquiries I wished to avoid. I then went to my bureau, locked up the pocket-book and took out a piece of black ribbon which I bound round my wrist. When I came down, the agitation of my mind on my countenance, was too visible to pass long unobserved by Sir Marcus; he instantly remarked my confusion, and inquired the cause. I told him I was well, perfectly well, but informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died on the preceding Tuesday