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 and unexplored vaults create apprehension and horror, and where nothing gives signs oof [sic] life, but the mournful ruin-loving owl, therefthere [sic] solitude is hateful, and companions pleasant, especially if the solitary person, like Frank, should expect every moment to see some horrid spectre. In such a situation, a conversation from the window, even with the watchman, may appear more entertaining than the most interesting book, were it even a dissertation on solitude. Had Zimmermann been in Frank’s place in the castle of Rummelsburg on the frontiers of Westphalia, he would then probably have planned as interesting a work on the pleasures of society, as troublesome people provoked him to write on solitude.

The midnight hour is said to be the time when the spiritual world begins to live and act, while the more coarse animal kingdom, enjoys repose. For this reason, Frank wished to go to sleep before the critical hour arrived; he shut the window therefore, surveyed once more every corner of his room, and quickly threw himself on the soft couch, greatly to the