over a deep precipice rolled the carriage, the horses, himself, and the nun, into the depth of the abyss.
The tender hero did not know what had become of him, his body was crushed, his head bruised, and from the heavy fall he had lost all consciousness. When he came to himself again, he missed his travelling companion. He passed the rest of the night in the most piteous situation, and was brought next morning by some countrymen who had found him, into the nearest village.
His carriage had tumbled to pieces, and his four moor-headed horses had broken their necks. Their loss, however, did not grieve him much. He was only suffering great anxiety on account of his Emily; and he sent people in all directions to find her out, but he could get no news of her. The midnight hour only relieved his anxiety about her; for when the clock struck twelve, the door opened, and his lost travelling companion entered his room—not in the shape of the beautiful Emily, but in that of a spectral nun, a disgusting skeleton.
The handsome Fred perceived with horror that he had made a mistake; he was in a cold sweat of death, began to cross himself, and to recite all the prayers which in his distress came
