About the dawn of day Oswald intended to lay his packets in the way of those to whom they were addressed; after much contrivance he determined to take a bold step, and, if he were discovered, to frame some excuse.  Encouraged by his late success, he went on tip-toe into Master William’s chamber, placed a letter upon his pillow, and withdrew unheard.  Exulting in his heart, he attempted the Baron’s apartment, but found it fastened within.  Finding this scheme frustrated, he waited till the hour the Baron was expected down to breakfast, and laid the letter and the key of the haunted apartment upon the table.  Soon after, he saw the Baron enter the breakfast room; he got out of sight, but staid within call, preparing himself for a summons.  The Baron sat down to breakfast; he saw a letter directed to himself —­ he opened it, and to his great surprise, read as follows:—­

“The guardian of the haunted apartment to Baron Fitz-Owen.  To thee I remit the key of my charge, until the right owner shall come, who will both discover and avenge my wrongs; then, woe be to the guilty! —­ But let the innocent rest in peace.  In the mean time, let none presume to explore the secrets of my apartment, lest they suffer for their temerity.”

The Baron was struck with amazement at the letter.  He took up the key, examined it, then laid it down, and took up the letter; he was in such confusion of thought, he knew not what to do or say for several minutes.  At length he called his servants about him; the first question he asked was—­

“Where is Edmund?”

“They could not tell.

“Has he been called?”

“Yes, my Lord, but nobody answered, and the key was not in the door.”

“Where is Joseph?”

“Gone into the stables.”

“Where is father Oswald?”

“In his study.”

“Seek him, and desire him to come hither.”

By the time the Baron had read the letter over again, he came.

He had been framing a steady countenance to answer to all interrogatories.  As he came in he attentively observed the Baron, whose features were in strong agitation; as soon as he saw Oswald, he spoke as one out of breath.

“Take that key, and read this letter!”

He did so, shrugged up his shoulders, and remained silent.

“Father,” said my lord, “what think you of this letter?”

“It is a very surprising one.”

“The contents are alarming.  Where is Edmund?”

“I do not know.”

“Has nobody seen him?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Call my sons, my kinsmen, my servants.”

The servants came in.

“Have any of you seen or heard of Edmund?”

“No,” was the answer.

“Father, step upstairs to my sons and kinsmen, and desire them to come down immediately.

Oswald withdrew; and went, first, to Mr. William’s chamber.

“My dear sir, you must come to my lord now directly—­ he has something extraordinary to communicate to you.”