of the empresses, Agrippina, Messalina,—it don't make much difference whom. The sum and substance of it was that he had her carried home to his abode and by dint of looking at her and admiring her he became mad. All those Protestant gentlemen are more than half mad, any way. He used to call her his wife, his 'milady,' and he would kiss her, all of marble though she was. He said that the statue came to life every night for his sake, and this went on until one morning they found milord stone dead in his bed. Well, you would not believe it, but there was another Englishman foolish enough to buy that statue. If it had been my case I would have had the thing burned for lime."
When people once get fairly started on the subject of supernatural adventures they never know when to stop. Every one had his story to tell. I made my own contribution to the cycle of blood-curdling tales, and the result was that when the time came for us to separate we were all pretty well worked up and imbued with respect for the power of his satanic majesty.
I started on foot to reach my lodging, and in order to get into the Rue du Corso, took a little tortuous lane through which I had never yet passed. It was quite deserted. All that was to be seen were long garden walls and a few houses of mean appearance, in no one of which was a light visible. The bells had just struck midnight; it was very dark. I was in the middle of the street, walking at a good round pace, when I heard a faint sound, a st! just above my head, and at the same moment a rose fell at my feet. I raised my eyes, and, notwithstanding the darkness, discovered a woman dressed in white standing at a
