When supper was over, we sat together in familiar conversation, while cheerfulness and good humour reigned among us.  It was near midnight, when suddenly a hollow, doleful sound was heard, like the groaning of a human being; gradually it grew weaker, and at last died away entirely.  A momentary trembling seized us all; we stared at each other, and then around us, unable to explain the mystery.

The Marquess ran to the window, while the rest of us were endeavouring to restore the lady, who lay senseless on the floor.  It was some time before she recovered.  The jealous Italian would scarcely give her time to open her eyes, when he began to load her with reproaches.  If you agree on signs with your friends, said the Marquess, I pray you let them be less open and terrifying.  She replied, with her usual presence of mind, that, having the right to see any person, at any time, in her house, she could hardly be supposed to choose such appalling sounds as the forerunners of happy moments.

And really there was something uncommonly terrifying in the sound; its slowly lengthened vibrations were still fresh in our ears.  Antonelli was pale, confused, and every moment in danger of falling into a swoon.  We were obliged to remain with her half the night.  Nothing more was heard.  On the following evening the same company was assembled; and although the cheerfulness of the preceding day was wanting, we were not dejected.  Precisely at the same hour we heard the same hollow groan as the night before.

We had in the meantime formed many conjectures on the origin of this strange sound, which were as contradictory as they were extravagant.  It is unnecessary to relate every particular:  in short, whenever Antonelli supped at home, the alarming noise was heard at the same hour, sometimes stronger, at others weaker.  This occurrence was spoken of all over Naples.  Every inmate of the house, every friend and acquaintance, took the most lively interest; even the police was summoned to attend.  Spies were placed at proper distances around the house.  To such as stood in the street the sound seemed to arise in the open air, while those in the room heard it close by them.  As often as she supped out all was silent, but whenever she remained at home, she was sure to be visited by her uncivil guest; but leaving her house was not always a means of escaping him.  Her talent and character gained her admittance into the first houses; the elegance of her manners and her lively conversation, made her everywhere welcome; and, in order to avoid her unpleasant visiter, she used to pass her evenings in company out of the house.

A gentleman, whose age and rank made him respectable, accompanied her home one evening in his coach.  On taking leave of him at her door, the well known voice issued from the steps beneath them; and the old gentleman, who was perfectly well acquainted with the story, was helped into his coach more dead than alive.