Page:Gothic Stories.djvu/60

 was he a coward; yet a hero of romance might have been jutified in a cae like this, hould he have betrayed fear. Henry’s heart unk within him; his knees mote together, and, upon the chamber door being opened, and his name uttered in a hollow voice, he dropped the portrait to the floor; and at, as if riveted to the chair, without daring to lift up his eyes. At length, however, as ilence again prevailed, he ventured, for a moment, to raie his eyes, when–my blood freezes as I relate it–before him tood the figure of Mary in a hroud; her beamles eye fixed upon him with a vacant tare; and her bared boom expoing a mot deadly gah. “Henry! Henry! Henry!” he repeated in a hollow tone–“Henry! I am come for thee! thou hat often aid that death with me was preferable to life without me; come, then, and enjoy all the ectaies of love thee ghatly features, added to the contemplation of a charnel-houe, can inpire;” then, gaping his hand with her icy fingers, he wooned; and intantly found himelf tretched on the hearth of his mater’s kitchen; a romance in his hand, and the houe-dog by his ide, whoe cold noe touching his hand, had awakened him.