It is a lovely old castle, ancient and timeworn, with turrets rising in unexpected places, and walls covered with drooping ivy, and gables dark with age.,
Tired at length, and feeling somewhat chilled, Mona rouses herself from her reverie, and, followed by her two faithful guardians, moves towards the staircase. Passing the armored men that stand in niches along the walls, a little sensation of fear, a certain belief in the uncanny, runs through her. She looks in a terrified fashion over her left shoulder, and shudders perceptibly. Do dark fiery eyes look upon her in very truth from those ghastly visors?—surely a clank of supernatural armor smote upon her ear just then!,
"What are you picking up?" called the son-in-law..
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