Lord, says I--am I sure I am alive?
And as for me, ma'am, I am all astounded, as one may say, and would no more sleep in this chamber, than I would on the great cannon at the end of the east rampart.' 'And what objection have you to that cannon, more than to any of the rest ?' said Emily smiling: 'the best would be rather a hard bed.' 'Yes, ma'amselle, any of them would be hard enough for that matter; but they do say, that something has been seen in the dead of night, standing beside the great cannon, as if to guard it.' 'Well! my good Annette, the people who tell such stories, are happy in having you for an auditor, for I perceive you believe them all.' 'Dear ma'amselle! I will shew you the very cannon; you can see it from these windows!' 'Well,' said Emily, 'but that does not prove, that an apparition guards it.' 'What! not if I shew you the very cannon! Dear ma'am, you will believe nothing.' 'Nothing probably upon this subject, but what I see,' said Emily.--'Well, ma'am, but you shall see it, if you will only step this way to the casement.'-- Emily could not forbear laughing, and Annette looked surprised.

Perceiving her extreme aptitude to credit the marvellous, Emily forbore to mention the subject she had intended, lest it should overcome her with idle terrors, and she began to speak on a lively topic--the regattas of Venice.
'Aye, ma'amselle, those rowing matches,' said Annette, 'and the fine moon-light nights, are all, that are worth seeing in Venice.

To be sure the moon is brighter than any I ever saw; and then to hear such sweet music, too, as Ludovico has often and often sung under the lattice by the west portico! Ma'amselle, it was Ludovico, that told me about that picture, which you wanted so to look at last night, and---' 'What picture ?' said Emily, wishing Annette to explain herself.
'O! that terrible picture with the black veil over it.' 'You never saw it, then ?' said Emily.
'Who, I!--No, ma'amselle, I never did.

But this morning,' continued Annette, lowering her voice, and looking round the room, 'this morning, as it was broad daylight, do you know, ma'am, I took a strange fancy to see it, as I had heard such odd hints about it, and I got as far as the door, and should have opened it, if it had not been locked!' Emily, endeavouring to conceal the emotion this circumstance occasioned, enquired at what hour she went to the chamber, and found, that it was soon after herself had been there.

She also asked further questions, and the answers convinced her, that Annette, and probably her informer, were ignorant of the terrible truth, though in Annette's account something very like the truth, now and then, mingled with the falsehood.