d exclaimed in a wild, hysterical tone, "Canst thou
explain this, signor? 'January 7th, 1516,'--that was about a week after
I abandoned him; and, oh! well indeed might those words be added--'His
last day thus!'"

"You comprehend not the meaning of that inscription!" ejaculated the
stranger, in an imploring tone, as if to beseech her to have patience to
listen to him. "There is a dreadful mystery connected with Fernand
Wagner--connected with me--connected with these two portraits--connected
also with----"

He checked himself suddenly, and his whole form seemed convulsed with
horror as he glanced toward the black cloth covering the neighboring
frame.

"A mystery?" repeated Agnes. "Yes--all is mystery: and vague and
undefinable terrors oppress my soul!"

"Thou shalt soon--too soon--be enlightened!" said the stranger, in a
voice of profound melancholy; "at least, to a certain extent," he added,
murmuringly. "But contemplate that other portrait for a few
moments--that you may make yourself acquainted with the countenance of a
wretch who, in conferring a fearful boon upon your grandsire, has
plunged him into an abyss of unredeemable horror!"

Agnes cast her looks toward the portrait of the tall man with the
magnificent hair, the flashing blue eyes, the wildly expressive
countenance, and the symmetrical form bowed with affliction; and, having
surveyed it for some time with repugnance strongly mingled with an
invincible interest and curiosity, she suddenly pointed toward the
inscription.

"Yes, yes; there is another terrible memorial!" cried the stranger. "But
art thou now prepared to listen to a wondrous--an astonishing tale--such
a tale as even nurses would scarcely dare narrate to lull children----"

"I _am_ prepared," answered Agnes. "I perceive there is a dreadful
mystery connected with my grandsire--with you, also--and perhaps with
me;--and better learn at once the truth, than remain in this state of
intolerable suspense."

Her unknown friend conducted her back to the ottoman, whereon she placed
herself.

He took a seat by her side, and, after a few moments' profound
meditation, addressed her in the following manner.

CHAPTER VII.

REVELATIONS.

"You remember, Agnes, how happily the times passed when you were the
darling of the old man in his poor cottage. All the other members of his
once numerous family had been swept away by pestilence, malady,
accident, or violence; and you only were left to h