tory. The three men whose names I have
mentioned, with ten others, formed a club, which
combined for numerous beneficial purposes.
Their meetings were held on a certain evening
every week, in a little house in a garden belonging
to a maltster, who was one of the members
of the club. The entrance to this garden was
through his house, or through a door opening
into the fields, of which each member had a key.
On the fifth evening after the accident they were
assembled as usual. Some of them were smoking,
and had jugs of beer before them, but all were
unusually grave and silent, for Whitmead and
Anscombe, who were present, had called on their
suffering partner on their way down, and found
him speechless and at the point of death.  While
they were sitting thus, expecting every instant
to hear the passing-bell tell of his soul's departure,
the figure of their friend, with no clothing
except a shirt upon him, appeared in the room.
It looked about for an instant, and then sat
down in a vacant chair near the door. Not
doubting that it was the apparition of their
friend, and not a being of flesh and blood, no
one dared to speak. The figure sat still for
some minutes without speaking, quite regardless
of everything around, then repeating in a low
monotonous tone, 'He hath turned the shadow
of death into the morning,' it rose, glided
noiselessly from the room, and disappeared through
the door opening into the fields. It is not
known, nor is it possible to form an idea with
any certainty, how many minutes elapsed
before any of those present had so far recovered
their self-possession as to open the door and
look out; but when they did, the figure was not
visible, though they could see for some distance
along the path leading in the direction of
Aldham's house. After exchanging a few remarks,
Whitmead, Anscombe and another, named
Jennings, agreed to go to their friend's house and
ascertain his condition; but before they returned
the tolling of the church bell informed those
who remained behind, that Aldham had ceased
to exist. The information which the three
brought back, was, that Aldham had died at
twenty minutes past six o'clock; upon which
one of the party averred that this was the very
time when the figure entered the room, as he
had his watch in his hand at the moment for the
purpose of showing his neighbour the time; an
assertion which his neighbour confirmed."

"And is that all the information the author
gives?" asked I.

"That is all," replied Ludwig.

"Then," said I, " I think I can add
something which detracts from the marvellous
character of the narrative, though I cannot for
the life of me remember where I read it, or
heard it. The explanation is this, though it was
not given till years afterwards: The nurse in
whose charge he was, had received the strictest
injunctions not to leave him alone for an instant,
but instead of obeying her orders, she left the
room for some purpose, and when she returned
she found he had left the house. Being alone
in the cottage, there was nobody to know of this
but herself, and before she had decided on what
to do, and was looking up and down wondering
in which direction to seek him, she saw him
approaching from a coppice not far off, through
which a footpath ran in the direction of the
garden mentioned. He walked quietly in-doors,
stretched himself on his bed, and drew his last
breath. Fearing lest he might have been seen, and
her character as a nurse consequently lost, she ran
down to the sexton, who lived in a cottage close
to the church, and without the loss of a minute
he sounded the knell that had fallen so solemnly
on the ears of the dead man's friends. The
woman hastened back to the cottage and arrived
before Whitmead and the others reached it, and
on their asking what time Aldham had died, she
told them at twenty minutes past six o'clock.
It is possible that as this explanation was not
given till some time afterwards, the German
may never have heard it."

After some remarks had been exchanged with
reference to the simplicity with which this, one
of the best authenticated ghost stories, had been
explained, the translator proceeded to read
another, entitled, " The narrative of Jacob Hirzig,
a Jew, who was buried alive in a poisoned
well."

"In the year 5108, which in the European
calendar is 1348, a Jewish physician named
Balavignus, who dwelt at Thonon, near Chillon, not
having the fear of the Most Holy One before his
eyes, did, under the influence of torture, he having
been racked several times, and being, moreover,
threatened with other and more grievous
torments, confess that he had received from Rabbi
Jacob Hirzig, through the hands of a Jewish boy,
a packet of poison, which he was directed to
throw into the principal wells of the town in
which he lived, which injunction he had obeyed.
This pretended confession, which he made in the
madness caused by intense suffering, was
afterwards read over to him, and he was made to
swear to its truth on the Law. Subsequently,
while still insane, he confessed, or was said to
have confessed, that he had thrown a portion of
the poison into a certain well, and that he had
concealed another portion tied up in a piece of
rag beneath the stones on the brink. Being
taken to this well, and compelled to search
among the stones, he, in the presence of the
magistrate and other of the municipal authorities
drew out a piece of rag, which on being
opened was found to contain a red and black
powder mingled together. The mob of Christians
then present did thereupon seize a certain
renegade Jew, who had departed from the religion
of his forefathers, and forcing the magistrate to
put a small quantity of the powder into a vessel,
they filled it with water and compelled the Jew
to swallow it; who was immediately smitten
with death, and died in great agony within an
hour—a most just punishment for his former
apostacy. As for Balavignus he was taken
back to prison, and subsequently put to death
with great cruelty.