a small hut, situated in a thicket, which he entered by a wooden bridge that had been thrown across a torrent. Here he found an infirm old man, kneeling, in profound devotion, before a crucifix. The old man welcomed the youth kindly, prepared for him a bed of moss in an inner cave, which was separated by a door from his own cell, and placed before him a repast of fruits, water, and wine. When Antonio had refreshed himself, he sat up, enjoying the conversation of the monk, who having been a soldier in his younger days, had seen a good deal of the world, and served in a number of campaigns. Thus it was near midnight before the youth thought of retiring to rest; and, just as he was doing so, another frail old monk entered the cell to join the hermit in his nightly devotions.
Antonio had not rested above an hour, when he awakened suddenly from his sleep. He thought he heard a noise of voices and wrangling. He raised himself up, and listened, until he was certain that his senses did not misinform him. The tones also appeared to be familiar to him, so that he could not help again asking himself whether he was not still dreaming. He rose and approached the door, and put his eye to a chink, through which he could see into the next room. And, what was his astonishment, when he beheld Pietro d'Abano—the man whom he considered dead—speaking in loud wrath—his face flushed, and his eyes darting fire. Opposite him stood the figure of the hateful Berecynth.
"Your persecutor," cried the latter, in a cracked voice—"the man who is the cause of all your misery— the pious loving fool, is under the same roof with us. He has come to your very hand to be slaughtered like a tame rabbit, and yet you delay to strike!"
"Silence!" exclaimed Pietro; "I have consulted my familiars, and find that I cannot prevail against him for as yet he has fallen into no sin."
"Then have at him, without minding your familiars!" cried the abortion. "Strike him dead with your own gracious hand, and see how much his youth or his innocence will avail him! And I must be a miserable second if I do not heartily back you in so honorable a deed."
"Let us fall to work, then," exclaimed Pietro; "do you take the hammer—I will carry the hatchet. He is at this moment fast asleep."
They approached the door; upon which Antonio flung it wide open, and courageously came forward to confront his assailants. He had his drawn sword in his hand, but was struck motionless as a statue when he beheld, at some distance before him, nothing but two infirm old hermits on their knees at the cross, fervently breathing forth their prayers.
"Do you want anything?" asked his entertainer, slowly rising from the ground.
Antonio could not reply for astonishment.
"Wherefore have you your drawn sword in your hand?" asked the frail old man; "why is your aspect so threatening?"
Antonio excused himself on the ground that he had been troubled by a dreadful dream, and retired.
He did not, however, attempt to go to sleep so terribly was be agitated by what had happened. After a time he again heard Berecynth's cracked voice, and Pietro speaking to him in distinct tones.
"You see it is vain attempting it," said the latter; " he is armed, and on his guard, and is not likely to go to sleep again to-night."
"We must overpower him, however," returned the fiend; "he has recognised us, and, if we do not settle him our fate is sealed. He will band us over to the Inquisition to-morrow morning, and it won't be tardy in consigning us to the stake."
Antonio again looked through the chink, and again he perceived the two sorcerers. Sword in band, he dashed into the room, but, as before, he found nothing but two frail old men prostrate on the ground in prayer. Driven frantic by the illusion, be seized them in his arms, and wrestled with them violently. They turned upon him in despair; at one moment the countenance seemed to be that of Pietro—at another, that of the hermit—then it seemed to be the spectre Berecynth's, and again that of an infirm old man. Amid shrieks and yells, he at last succeeded in hurling them out of the cell which he bolted fast. Then was heard from without a sobbing of many voices dying wailings, and dreary shrieks while a storm passing over at the time filled up the pauses of the concert. At
