terrific tales in
connection with these ruins: and the belief that each night at twelve
o'clock the soul of the guilty abbot is driven by the scourge of the
demon through the scene alike of his episcopal power and his black
turpitude, effectually prevents impertinent or inconvenient intrusion."

The observation with which the muffled stranger concluded his brief
narrative, convinced Wagner that it was amongst those ruins the brethren
of the Rosy Cross had fixed their secret abode. But he had no time for
reflection, inasmuch as his guide hurried him on amidst the tombs, on
which the light of the silver moon now streamed with a power and an
effect that no dark cloud for the time impaired. Stopping at the base of
one of the most splendid monuments in the cemetery, the muffled stranger
touched some secret spring, and a large marble block immediately opened
like a door, the aperture revealing a narrow flight of stone steps.
Wagner was directed to descend first, a command which he obeyed without
hesitation, his guide closing the marble entrance ere he followed. For
several minutes the two descended in total darkness. At length, a faint,
glimmering light met Wagner's view; and as he proceeded it grew stronger
and stronger, until it became of such dazzling brilliancy that his eyes
ached with the supernatural splendor. That glorious luster was diffused
from a silver lamp, hanging to the arched roof of a long passage, or
corridor of masonry, to which the stone steps led.

"Fernand Wagner," said the guide, in his mild and somewhat monotonous
voice, "thou now beholdest the eternal lamp of the Rosicrucians. For a
hundred and twenty years has that lamp burnt with as powerful a luster
as that which it now sheds forth; and never once--no, not once during
that period, has it been replenished. No human hand has touched it since
the day when it was first suspended there by the great founder of our
sect."

All doubt was now dispelled from the mind of Wagner--if a doubt he had
even for a moment entertained since the muffled stranger had summoned
him from the inn:--he was indeed in the secret abode of the holy sect of
the Rosy Cross! His guide, too, was a member of that brotherhood--and
there, almost too dazzling to gaze upon, burnt the eternal lamp which
was the symbol of the knowledge cherished by the order! Wagner turned to
gaze in wonder and admiration upon his guide: and beneath the broad brim
of the slouched hat, he beheld a countena