interesting features of Mrs. Radcliffe's work. Few could have
guessed from the slight sketch of Baron Malcolm, a merely slavish
copy of the traditional villain, that he was to be the ancestor
of such picturesque and romantic creatures as Montoni and
Schedoni.

This tentative beginning was quickly followed by the more
ambitious _Sicilian Romance_ (1790), in which we are transported
to the palace of Ferdinand, fifth Marquis of Mazzini, on the
north coast of Sicily. This time the date is fixed officially at
1580. The Marquis has one son and two daughters, the children of
his first wife, who has been supplanted by a beautiful but
unscrupulous successor. The first wife is reputed dead, but is,
in reality, artfully and maliciously concealed in an uninhabited
wing of the abbey. It is her presence which leads to disquieting
rumours of the supernatural. Ferdinand, the son, vainly tries to
solve the enigma of certain lights, which wander elusively about
the deserted wing, and finds himself perilously suspended, like
David Balfour in _Kidnapped_, on a decayed staircase, of which
the lower half has broken away. In this hazardous situation,
Ferdinand accidentally drops his lamp and is left in total
darkness. An hour later he is rescued by the ladies of the
castle, who, alarmed by his long absence, boldly come in search
of him with a light. During another tour of exploration he hears
a hollow groan, which, he is told, proceeds from a murdered
spirit underground, but which is eventually traced to the unhappy
marchioness. These two incidents plainly reveal that Mrs.
Radcliffe has now discovered the peculiar vein of mystery towards
which she was groping in _The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne_.
From the very first she explained away her marvels by natural