The place was cold, calm, and still as the grave.

A lamp, which hung high above my head, threw a faint light around, and showed me, within a niche of the opposite wall, the figure of a gorgeously dressed female; she appeared to be standing motionless, but as the pale light flickered upon her features, I thought I could detect the semblance of a smile.

The splendor of her costume and the glittering gems which shone upon her spotless robe gleamed through the darkness with an almost supernatural brilliancy, and so beautiful did she look, so calm her pale features, that as I opened and shut my eyes and rubbed my lids, I scarcely dared to trust to my erring senses, and believe it could be real.

What could it mean?
Whence this silence; this cold sense of awe and reverence?
Was it a dream; was it the fitful vision of a disordered intellect?
Could it be death?
My eyes were riveted upon that beautiful figure.

I essayed to speak, but could not; I would have beckoned her towards me, but my hands refused their office.