sed with the
mirrored flames of innumerable windows on land, or of lanterns suspended
from the masts or sterns of the vessels. The dancing ripples bickered and
flickered, and seemed to say, "Come hither to us," while the dark reaches
of still water in the shadow of the piers promised that whatever might be
entrusted to them should be faithfully retained. Swayed by a sudden
impulse, Otto drew his ring from his finger. It gleamed an instant aloft in
air; in another the relaxation of his grasp would have consigned it to the
stream.

"Forbear!"

Otto turned, and perceived a singular figure by his side. The stranger was
tall and thin, and attired in a dusky cloak which only partially concealed
a flame-coloured jerkin. A cock's feather peaked up in his cap; his eyes
were piercingly brilliant; his nose was aquiline; the expression of his
features sinister and sardonic. Had Otto been more observant, or less
preoccupied, he might have noticed that the stranger's left shoe was of a
peculiar form, and that he limped some little with the corresponding foot.

"Forbear, I say; thou knowest not what thou doest."

"And what skills what I do with a piece of common glass?"

"Thou errest, friend; thy ring is not common glass. Had thy mistress
surmised its mystic virtues, she would have thought oftener than twice ere
exchanging it for thy diamond."

"What may these virtues be?" eagerly demanded Otto.

"In the first place, it will show thee when thy mistress may chance to
think of thee, as it will then prick thy finger."

"Now I know thee for a lying knave," exclaimed the youth indignantly.
"Learn, to thy confusion, that it hath not pricked me once since I parted
from Aurelia."

"Which proves that she has never once thought of thee."

"Villain!" shouted Otto, "say that again, and I will transfix thee."

"Thou mayest if thou canst," rejoined the stranger, with an expression of
such cutting scorn that Otto's spirit quailed, and he felt a secret but
overpowering conviction of his interlocutor's veracity. Rallying, however,
in some measure, he exclaimed:

"Aurelia is true! I will wager my soul upon it!"

"Done!" screamed the stranger in a strident voice of triumph, while a burst
of diabolical laughter seemed to proceed from every cranny of the eaves and
piers of the old bridge, and to be taken up by goblin echoes from the
summits of the adjacent towers and steeples.

Otto's blood ran chill, but he mustered sufficient courage to