Both pleased and excited by the occurrences of the evening, the blood coursed his veins too rapidly to admit of sleep for a time. He had, however, closed his eyes, and a dream had begun to operate upon his imagination. It was a dream of a house which he could call his own, a clean hearth, and a cheerful fire, with himself snugly seated in an arm-chair on one side of it, and Mary sitting on the other, knitting a stocking; and, ever as he addressed her, bending on him a pair of smiling eyes. Alas! what is the happiness of man, in most instances, save a dream--sometimes a waking one, sometimes a sleeping one--but seldom real! From this pleasing illusion he was awakened by a noise at the window; and the house, clean hearth, cheerful fire, arm-chair, along with Mary and her stocking, at once disappeared in darkness. He heard her name repeated in a low whisper; and, after a considerable pause, the noise increased. Upon this occasion, it appeared to be something worse than an ordinary _warning_--bad as that might be--for it continued. At first jealousy took possession of his heart. "Could it be possible that Mary was making a dupe of him, while she really preferred another? And could it be that _other_ who was now making a noise for the purpose of awakening her?" These were questions which, in his first surprise, he naturally put to himself, without being exactly able to answer them. Something more serious, however, than the awakening of young women seemed to be in the wind, and his next thought was of robbers. This idea, upon farther consideration, he was also forced to reject; for he had remarked that, except the bed upon which he was lying, a table, a small mirror, and some trifling articles of female attire, there was neither chest, chest of drawers, nor anything else in the apartment which could possibly conceal treasure; and it was not likely that practised robbers would put themselves to much trouble for beds, tables, and six-inch mirrors. Upon these things he had ample time to reflect; for the operations at the window neither appeared to be scientific nor successful. They consisted of a sort of half-cautious rubbing and scratching, which was kept up with little intermission; and at last he felt inclined to think that the whole might be the work of some one who had sat too long at the bottle, and, after being deserted by his companions, had forgotten to go to bed. But, then, unless he were in some way or other connected with Mary, or unless his visits at least had, on some former occasion, been sanctioned by her, what reason could he have for selecting that particular window as the scene of his nocturnal operations? A certain degree of reviving jealousy, mingled with a strong feeling of curiosity, now took full possession of the doubtful lover's mind; and having, to his own astonishment, remained so long silent, he resolved to await the issue without uttering a word. Fortunately he had heard nothing of warnings, and but little of ghosts; the little which he had heard he entirely discredited; and, by attributing the whole directly to _natural_ and not _supernatural_ agency, he felt strengthened to abide by his resolution--a circumstance which could have hardly occurred, had he held, in its full perfection, the doctrine of the _visibility_ of spirits.