delight of his wearied limbs. Sleep, however, came not so soon as he wished. A palpitation which he ascribed to the wine he had drank, kept him awake for some time; during which, he repeated his prayers more fervently than he had done for many years; at length, he fell soundly asleep. After a short time, he awoke with a sudden start, when, on remembering where he was, he heard the town clock strike twelve; which news, the watchman soon afterwards loudly proclaimed. No other noise was, however, heard. Frank listened for some time, and, turning round, was again relapsing into the arms of sleep, when at some distance he heard a door opened, and immediately afterwards shut with a loud crash.
“Woe! woe to me!” whispered fear, “here comes the ghost!” “It is the wind, nothing but the wind,” replied courage. But the noise approached nearer and nearer, like the heavy steps of a man, rattling his chains as he moved, or like the chamberlain of some old castle, wandering about his domain changing his bunch of keys. This could not be the wind—
