"Hark!" cried Marianne, her sense of hearing sharpened by anxiety; "he comes! yes, yes, he comes," added she, after a short pause; and in a few seconds Rosabella heard the Father's well-known step. "You are very late," said she, as he entered the room.
"Good God! what is the matter?" asked Marianne, as the haggard, agitated features of the priest met her eye. "You look like one who has held communion with infernal spirits."
"You say right, Marianne," replied the Father, in a deep hollow tone; "I have, indeed, conversed with spirits—for never could those fearful eyes that so long have glared upon me, belong to mortal."
"What do you mean?" asked Rosabella.
"I have again seen the Mummy! that fearful spectre from the tomb. I have even conversed with him, and he lives and breathes; nay even reasons, thinks, and speaks like a human being; but the cerecloths of the grave are still wrapped round him, his fearful eyes glare with unearthly lustre, and his deep sepulchral voice thrills through every nerve."
"What, that horrid creature whom we saw descend from above at the very moment of Claudia's accident? Heaven grant no horrible consequences may ensue from so awful an invasion of the general laws of nature!" said Rosabella.
"Are you certain it is no deception?" asked Marianne.
"Deception!" returned the priest, "even I trembled, Marianne, when I gazed upon the countenance of that tremendous being, and read there the traces of fierce and ungoverned passions, wild and destructive in their course as the raging whirlwind. Even I, dreaded the influence he might exert upon our destinies, and shuddered at the thought of such a creature's being released from the fetters of the tomb, and sent back as a destroying spirit upon earth. The eternal gloom that hangs upon his brow, seems to bespeak a fallen angel, for such is the deadly hate that must have animated the rebellious spirits when expelled from heaven. His look is terrific; and my blood froze in my veins at his horrid laugh, which seemed to ring in my ears like the mockery of fiends when they have involved a human being inextricably in their toils."
"It may be a fiend," murmured Marianne, in a low whisper. At this moment, the clock struck twelve.
Rosabella started at the sound. "Lord Gustavus will expect me," cried she.