country house. At the dinner banquet, which was protracted till late in the evening, rings were, as usual, interchanged between the lovers; but no sooner had that ceremony taken place, than a most horrible piercing shriek was heard by the whole party with astonishment—by the bridegroom with a cold shuddering through every limb. Every one started up, and ran to the windows, for the voice seemed to come from without; but, though the twilight still rendered objects visible, it was impossible to discover any cause for this extraordinary alarm.
“‘Halt there!’ cried the Duke, interrupting me, with a kind of wild laugh, and the expression of an evil conscience, more and more obvious in his features; ‘the loud cry at the window is known to me as well as to you—it is borrowed from the Memoirs of Clairon, the French actress, who was, in this manner, persecuted by one of her deceased lovers. After the cry, recollect there was always a clapping of hands. My Lord Marquis, you will not forget this in your ingenious romance.’—‘And for what reason,’ said I, ‘should you conclude that this incident could not happen in the life of any one else but Clairon?
