heavy, measured steps to and fro before the gates, whilst at a little distance lay a party of soldiers bivouacking. Clara shuddered as she looked at them, and hastily turning away, timidly approached the figure, and begged it to let her into the prison. It continued its march, but as it did not speak, she attempted to pass by it.
"No admittance," said the figure, as she touched it, in trying to reach the door.
"I implore you," cried Clara, wringing her hands in agony.
The figure did not reply, but continued its solemn tramp unmoved; its hollow steps falling heavily upon the ear at regular intervals. Driven to despair, Clara again endeavoured to rush past it; but she was again repulsed as the figure reiterated its monotonous "No admittance!" Clara threw herself upon her knees before it in agony.
"Clara! Clara dear!" cried Father Murphy, attempting to raise her, "you are certainly quite beside yourself; don't you see it is an automaton? nothing can stop it but the proper
