of vain hallucinations, and, arming themselves with heroic valor, they
make plans for unravelling the awesome mystery.

The most courageous among them would hide in the pavilion, and there await
in concealment the hour of the strange occurrence; in this way they would
discover what fingers drew those sounds from the piano.

Strong in this purpose they awaited the first shades of night; but then
the courage of the strongest failed. The air became filled with fearful
shadows, the silence with mysterious noises, and no one ventured to leave
the house. They spent the nights in vigil and the terror by which all were
possessed made them seem interminable.

And for Berta, on the other hand, the days were interminable, and she
awaited the nights with eager impatience.

One afternoon she expressed a desire to visit the ruins of the monastery,
and she showed so much eagerness in the matter that there was no resource
but to accede to her wish. Her father and her nurse resolved to accompany
her, and the three set out.

The distance between the villa and the monastery was not great, but the
party walked slowly. In the winding path the ruins disappeared suddenly
behind a hill, as if the earth had swallowed them; a few steps further on
they suddenly reappeared; and the travellers stood before the ruined
portico.

From this point the eye could contemplate the ruined walls, the broken
partitions, the ceilings fallen in, and between the loose stones the
solitary flowers of the ruin. Only the arches which supported the vaulted