Until the hour of midnight now actually struck, they were silent, and when the last echo of the sounds had died away, a feeling of uneasiness came over them, which prompted some conversation to get rid of it. “How bright the moon is now,” said Henry, in a low tone. “I never saw it brighter,” replied Marchdale. “I feel as if I were assured that we shall not to-night be interrupted.” “It was later than this,” said Henry. “It was—it was.” “Do not then yet congratulate us upon no visit.” “How still the house is!” remarked George; “it seems to me as if I had never found it so intensely quiet before.” “It is very still.” “Hush! she moves.” Flora moaned in her sleep, and made a slight movement. The curtains were all drawn closely round the bed to shield her eyes from the bright moonlight which streamed into the room so brilliantly. They might have closed the shutters of the window, but this they did not like to do, as it would render their watch there of no avail at all, inasmuch as they would not be able to see if any attempt was made by any one to obtain admittance. A quarter of an hour longer might have thus passed when Mr. Marchdale said in a whisper,— “A thought has just struck me that the piece of coat I have, which I dragged from the figure last night, wonderfully resembles in colour and appearance the style of dress of the portrait in the room which Flora lately slept in.” “I thought of that,” said Henry, “when first I saw it; but, to tell the honest truth, I dreaded to suggest any new proof connected with last night’s visitation.” “Then I ought not to have drawn your attention to it,” said Mr. Marchdale, “and regret I have done so.” “Nay, do not blame yourself on such an account,” said Henry. “You are quite right, and it is I who am too foolishly sensitive. Now, however, since you have mentioned it, I must own I have a great desire to test the accuracy of the observation by a comparison with the portrait.” “That may easily be done.” “I will remain here,” said George, “in case Flora awakens, while you two go if you like. It is but across the corridor.” Henry immediately rose, saying— “Come, Mr. Marchdale, come. Let us satisfy ourselves at all events upon this point at once. As George says it is only across the corridor, and we can return directly.” “I am willing,” said Mr. Marchdale, with a tone of sadness. There was no light needed, for the moon stood suspended in a cloudless sky, so that from the house being a detached one, and containing numerous windows, it was as light as day. Although the distance from one chamber to the other was only across the corridor, it was a greater space than these words might occupy, for the corridor was wide, neither was it directly across, but considerably slanting. However, it was certainly sufficiently close at hand for any sound of alarm from one chamber to reach another without any difficulty.