which he placed by the side of the weapons, and for some seconds contemplated the whole apparatus of death, with such a look of grim, and yet triumphant despair, that Jocelyn concluded he had resolved upon committing suicide, and that he felt a horrible satisfaction in having provided such a choice of means. All minor apprehensions being merged in this imminent and paramount danger, he was about to burst through the tapestry, and rush to arrest his fatal purpose, when he was again rivetted to the spot on which he stood, by the sudden appearance of Mrs. Strickland.

"You are come in good time," exclaimed the exile in a calm voice, as he seated himself in a chair." I was waiting for you: I am ready: the deed must be done now. It visited me again last night."

"What visited you?" inquired his wife.

"He" cried the exile in a fierce tone, "he! the spectre-the phantom-the man that is dead and buried-the apparition that haunts me in the darkness! He whom I have chased night after night with my sword, but who still returns to madden me with it hideous ghastliness."

"Strange that this fearful dream should thus often be repeated!" exclaimed his wife with a deep sigh.

"Dream!" cried the exile, smiling in bitterness of spirit" it was no dream, and if it were, may not such night-visions be prophetic and from the

Lord? was it not thus that he revealed his will to Abimelech, and Jacob, and Laban, and Joseph; although he refused thus to answer Saul before the battle of Gilboa? Did not Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar "Here he suddenly broke off and started up, rivetted his eyes to the wall, and moving them slowly as if following some object to the door, exclaimed in an agitated whisper-"There it was again!-there! there! did you not see it?"

"See what? my dear husband!" inquired Mrs. Strickland; "there is nothing."

"It has again glided out of the door and escaped me," replied the exile, replacing upon the table the sword which he had suddenly grasped. Passing his hand slowly over his eyes, which he repeatedly shut and opened, as if to collect his faculties, he proceeded in a more composed tone-" I believe I am somewhat over-worn with sleeplessness-I felt a little dizzy, but it is gone. We will proceed to our dreadful task. There is no one, I hope, in this quarter of the castle ?"

"Not a soul," replied his wife-" it is never visited."

"Hist! hist! did I not hear a noise ?-surely the arras moved.”

"These tattered hangings are often agitated by the wind that gets behind them," replied his wife. "Compose yourself, my dear husband! no breathing being can be near us."

"Perhaps so, for the phantom cannot breathe,"

exclaimed the exile-we will make all sure." He locked the door, and returning to his wife, continued in an earnest and eager whisper-" Last night, as I told you, I was awakened from deep sleep by the noise of undrawing my bed-curtains, and starting up, I beheld the grisly apparition that forever haunts me. The livid ghastliness of death was upon his features; his eyes were sunk down in their sockets; his beard was clotted with gore; and as I stretched out my arm to grasp my sword, a sepulchral voice exclaimed- By that right hand was I consigned to death!'-At these words the spectre pointed to his wound, where the mark of the weapon was still red and angry, and there issued from the gash a thin stream of blood, which, spouting towards me, fell upon my right hand; instantly after which the figure became invisible. On arising this morning I observed that the accursed stain was still branded on my flesh, stamped in to so indelible a depth that the stubborn crimson has resisted all my exertions to wash or tear it away. You have doubted of this nightly visitant, you have termed it a dream, a delusion,-now then behold the visible, the unanswerable, the red, the damning proof of what I have asserted!"

So saying, he untied the handkerchief in which his hand was wrapped, unbuttoned the sleeve of his doublet, turned back the shirt of mail which he always wore next his skin, and pointing to the back of his hand, exclaimed, "Behold! there is the san

guine stigma, running up the wrist, even to my arm." Under the influence of his delusion, he had been violently rubbing this particular part, until he had produced a redness of the skin, which confirmed him in his hallucination. "Now," he continued, with a desperate calmness, "prove yourself to be still the devoted wife I have ever found you. Were it not my right hand, myself would do it! Here are surgical instruments, a knife for the flesh, and a saw for the bone; cut then boldly, and fear not. Away with this blood-spilth! Off with this spotted flesh! Hack out the root of this filthy gore; and if the bone itself be stained, break it, saw through it, amputate the whole arm. Be not afraid, I will not flinch, nor utter a single groan. I can bear pain, torture, agony; but I will not be branded with the badge of Cain !"

-Distressed as she evidently was, his unfortunate wife did not lose her presence of mind in this embarrassing dilemma. Seeing that he was too fully possessed with his delusion to listen to any arguments of reason, and knowing, by experience, that it did but irritate him in these moods to doubt the reality of his impressions, she attempted not to disabuse him of his phantasma, but lent herself for the moment to the alienation of his mind. Minutely examining the supposed stain upon the hand, she expressed her fears that she should be obliged to cut deep, though there could be no doubt of its ultimate eradication, felt his pulse, declared that

he ought to be refreshed by sleep before the operation could be safely performed, and reminding him that she had come unprepared with bandages, finally proposed that every thing should be adjourned till the morrow.

"To-morrow be it!" cried her husband, again covering up his hand, "a few hours deeper misery can make little difference in one so habituated to wretchedness as I am. It is at least a consolation to have ascertained the unflinching affection of my wife; and a still greater to have proved to her the reality of that night-phantom, whose visitations she has so perseveringly doubted."

Soothed with this notion, and gratified by the new proof his wife had afforded of her devotedness, he conversed for some time, in a mood so calm, collected, and almost cheerful, that the affectionate woman exclaimed, "Oh! Valentine Walton! Valentine Walton! would that I could see your once noble mind as it now is, if it cannot be altogether restored to its former courage."

"Who says I am Valentine Walton?" cried the exile, looking around with returning terror-" there is death and doom in that excommunicated name. Ha! was it you, my faithful wife? forgive meforgive me!" He held out his hand to her with an affectionate look, and, seeming to recover his selfpossession as he pressed the hand of his wife, he continued in a calmer tone :— "Why do you recall to me what I was; how wide the sway I once pos