17
This night George determined to watch among the ruins: and when the rest of the family were retired, he put on a box-coat, and taking a brace of pistols repaired to the ruins.-At the same moment as he entered the haunted Aisle, he heard footsteps and had searce time to conceal himself behind some fragments of stones, when the same masked figure, that he had beheld the proceeding evening, passed along bearing a lighted torch. Pleasantly the tone of a harp struck his ear: after a few interesting moments, a voice accompanied the instrument.--George could no longer resist the impulse of curiosity: but creeping softly, advanced along the Aisle, the unknown sat on a little stool near the tomb on which lay his mark. The verses which he sung were descriptive of the agony of his mind, and plainly portrayed his being the murderer of some beautious female. The unknown arose———Barnwell retired a few paces to a spot where he might remain unobserved.—"Am I," said the mourner, "ever to endure these pangs? O that a blow would end them. Fool that I am, why do I hesitate to try? He drew a pistol from his bosom saying. "This in a moment brings me to my—would I could save my end.—But no, she did not cease to be when I plunged this steel into her breast, (holding a dagger with a blood-stained point) for still her ruthless spirit haunts her murderer—steal peace from his pillow, crosses him in his very path—and here, even here, while like an outcast wretch, I mourn away my nights, it follows me and makes a hell!" He reclined on the tomb, and covered his face with his hands. The suspicions of George were just, his voice, his face, proclaimed this murderer to be Mental.—In a few moments he exclaimed, "Away this dream of horror! Was she no faithless as fair?--O, Physician! omnipotent, Physician Mental art thou turning Monk?—Can intercession prevail with the All
