in an unknown room, and by his bedside stood a small table, covered
with glasses and phials, containing medicines, as is usual in a sick
room.

The door opened, and D'Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as
if he had just left his bed: and now in Edward's mind dreams and
realities were mingled together, and he thought that D'Effernay came,
perhaps, to speak with him on the occurrences of the preceding day.
But no! he approached the table on which the medicines stood, looked
at the watch, took up one of the phials and a cup, measured the
draught, drop by drop, then he turned and looked round him stealthily,
and then he drew from his breast a pale blue, coiling serpent, which
he threw into the cup, and held it to the patient's lips, who drank,
and instantly felt a numbness creep over his frame which ended in
death. Edward fancied that he was dead; he saw the coffin brought, but
the terror lest he should be buried alive, made him start up with a
sudden effort, and he opened his eyes.

The dream had passed away; he sat in his bed safe and well; but it was
long ere he could in any degree recover his composure, or get rid of
the impression which the frightful apparition had made on him. They
brought his breakfast, with a message from the master of the house
to inquire whether he would like to visit the park, farms, &c. He
dressed quickly, and descended to the court, where he found his host
in a riding dress, by the side of two fine horses, already saddled.
D'Effernay greeted the young man courteously; but Edward felt
an inward repugnance as he looked on that gloomy though handsome
countenance, now lighted up by the beams of the morning sun, yet
recalling vividly the dark visions of the night. D'Effernay was full
of attentions to his new friend. They started on their ride, in spite