Yet thou wert strangely wrapt." "Knowest thou aught of _him_, good father ?" answered Nigel, in a voice that to his own ears sounded hoarse and unnatural, and turning his glance once again to the portrait.

"My thoughts are busy with that face and yon tale-telling plank; there are wild, feverish, incongruous dreams within me, and I would have them solved.

Thou of all others art best fitted to the task, for amid the records of the past, where thou hast loved to linger, thou hast surely found the tradition of this tower.

I shame not to confess there is in my heart a deep yearning to learn the truth.

Wherefore, when thy harp and song have so pleasantly whiled the evening hours, did not this tale find voice, good father ?" "Alas! my son, 'tis too fraught with horror, too sad for gentle ears.