brought up; to be again its humble inmate is the summit of my wishes."
"Gladly indeed shall I resign all pretensions to rank and splendour (cried St. Julian); gladly shall I quit this mansion, where the spirit of a murdered brother takes its nightly rounds to fill my soul with horror. Yes, Madeline, in the dead of the night, when all but misery and despair are sunk in repose, my ears are often pierced by dreadful groans and melancholy cries, such as disturbed the tranquillity of the family the first night we entered within these walls."
"Oh! would to heaven (exclaimed Madeline, shuddering and appalled), that our departure from the castle immediately followed our renunciation of the fortune appertaining to it."
"Would to heaven it did! (said St. Julian) but to quit it during the life-time of the Marquis is impossible."
"Let me no longer delay sending for D'Alembert," cried she. As she spoke, she disengaged her hand, and, flying to the bell
