Below the window lay the old churchyard: he saw it green in the distance, the sun glancing through the yew-trees; he saw the tomb where father and mother lay united, and the spire pointing up to heaven, the symbol of the hopes of those who consigned the ashes to the dust; in his ear rang the bells, pealing, as on a Sabbath day.

Far fled all the visions of anxiety and awe that had haunted and convulsed; youth, boyhood, childhood came back to him with innocent desires and hopes; he thought he fell upon his knees to pray.

He woke,--he woke in delicious tears, he felt that the Phantom was fled forever.

He looked round,--Zanoni was gone.

On the table lay these lines, the ink yet wet:-- "I will find ways and means for thy escape.