dread of visits from supernatural beings, that
the feeling may cling to it, in a certain
measure, against better sense, and against all
reasoning and experience, all through life. An
unrestrained imagination will often produce the
same results.

The following story, however, has always been
a mystery to me. The more I have thought of
it, the more unaccountable it has always
appeared. It seems impossible to assign a cause
for the catastrophe with which it winds up. It
is from a source absolutely incapable of
misleading, and exceedingly unlikely to be misled:

"It is about thirty years since the events
occurred which I am about to relate to you,"
writes the friend who has set the story down for
me, "but so deep was the impression which
they made on my mind, that it almost seems to
me as I hough the time should be counted by
months rather than years.

"I was then a young officer in one of those
regiments which had borne the brunt of the
earlier part of the war in the Peninsula, and
which, being greatly reduced in numbers, were
first formed into provisional battalions, and
ultimately directed to return home. We were
none of us over well pleased with this arrangement;
neither was our great chief, who knew
the value of veteran troops, and considered the
provisional battalions among the best of his
army. But there was no help for it, and so,
like good soldiers, who know that their first duty
is obedience, we received the order with little
murmuring, and prepared to obey it.

"It was necessary to convey us for a brief
space to the rear, until transports should be
ready; and few in number as we were, it was
further necessary to do so in detachments. I
went with several others in the direction of the
village which had been pointed out to us on the
route, and good fun we made of each other on
the way. Among my comrades was a fellow
named Harrison, a kind-hearted, amiable lad,
full of fun and even mischief, yet firm and
unflinching in principle, and ever an honourable
gentleman. As to higher considerations than
even these, we were all careless and reckless
enough, thinking of nothing so much as how we
might best amuse ourselves. Harrison was a
prime favourite in our corps. He was young
and handsome, well knit, and capable of
enduring any amount of fatigue. I loved him as
if he had been my brother, and we were
inseperable.

"Well! My party and I, after wandering
about for a while, reached at length a small and
beautiful village. It was situated in a valley,
and was surrounded by trees, and shrubs, and
plants, of many kinds. Orange and olive,
pomegranate and fig-tree, all filled the air with
their delicious fragrance. There were
mountains, too, in the distance, adding beauty to the
scene, and on a little eminence close to the
village stood an old half-ruined monastery, partly
covered with ivy and wild passion-flower, and
adorned by a plantation of beautiful trees. On
one side of the monastery lay a lovely little
lake, by the margin of which Harrison and I
often afterwards wandered together in the cool
hours of the evening.

"Immediately on reaching the village our
attention was attracted to the old monastery,
and we all pronounced it to be the place of all
others in which to quarter both officers and
men. Accordingly the few monks who still
inhabited it were with no small difficulty
persuaded to move out, and we very unceremoniously
took their places. Tired by the toil of
the day, I had sat down, with one or two
others, to rest under one of the large olive-trees,
when an old monk, whom I had noticed hovering
about the place ever since his companions
left, approached us. His silver hair and beard
streamed over his brown serge dress; but there
was a fierce light in his eye which age had not
quenched. He shook his head gravely as he
came near, and holding up his hand, said,
'Signor, you will repent that ever you came
here; you will find no rest day nor night in
this place. San Francesco guards his servants
with jealous care, and you will call down his
just wrath for desecrating this sanctuary.
None ever offend him yet go unpunished.
Remember my words, signor; they are not vain
words.'

"The old man crossed himself two or three
times, and then hurried down by the wooded
path which led into the valley, leaving us rather
surprised, but of course not alarmed.
Harrison laughed; we all laughed, finally
resumed our conversation, and forgot all about
the monk.

"Our next step was to make arrangements
for getting supplies from the country people of
the neighbourhood, and on the whole we
considered ourselves snugly and romantically
disposed of for some weeks to come. For, besides
the beautiful rides and walks within our reach,
we had the assurance of good fishing in the
lake, and shooting in the woods; and what
with rides and walks, and fishing and shooting,
and occasional dances with the village
girls, time was not likely to hang heavy on our
hands.

"Matters did not, however, turn out exactly
as we had anticipated. It happened one day
as I was going round inspecting the rooms,
that I noticed that the men were collected into
knots of two and three, rather excited, and talking
earnestly together; many of them forgot to
give me the usual salute as I passed, and the
expressions on their faces were new and strange
and perplexing to me. 1 said nothing, and
pretended to notice nothing unusual, but went
round, thinking that perhaps the men had had
some slight misunderstanding with the
Spaniards, who, though they received us kindly
at first, had shown themselves to be violent and
quick-tempered. I had finished my rounds, and
was returning to my room, when I heard a
quick step behind me. The sergeant of our
company came up, and touching his cap, begged
to say a few words to me when I was at
leisure.