lf
down from her casement to fly with Arnold. Their escape was successfully
achieved upon a pair of excellent horses, the proceeds of Otto's diamond,
which had become the property of a Jew.

On the third night an aged monk stood by Otto's grave, and wept
plentifully. He carried a lantern, a mallet, and a chisel. "He was my
pupil," sobbed the good old man. "It were meet to contribute what in me
lies to the befitting perpetuation of his memory."

Setting down the lantern, he commenced work, and with pious toil engraved
on the stone in the Latin of the period:

"HAC MAGNUS STULTUS JACET IN FOSSA SEPULTUS.
MULIER CUI CREDIDIT MORTUUM ILLUM REDDIDIT."

Here he paused, at the end of his strength and of his Latin.

"Beshrew my old arms and brains!" he sighed.

"Hem!" coughed a deep voice in his vicinity.

The monk looked up. The personage in the dusky cloak and flame-coloured
jerkin was standing over him.

"Good monk," said the fiend, "what dost thou here?"

"Good fiend," said the monk, "I am inscribing an epitaph to the memory of a
departed friend. Thou mightest kindly aid me to complete it."

"Truly," rejoined the demon, "it would become me to do so, seeing that I
have his soul here in my pocket. Thou wilt not expect me to employ the
language of the Church. Nathless, I see not wherefore the vernacular may
not serve as well."

And, taking the mallet and chisel, he completed the monk's inscription with
the supplementary legend:

"SERVED HIM RIGHT."

THE BELL OF SAINT EUSCHEMON

The town of Epinal, in Lorraine, possessed in the Middle Ages a peal of
three bells, respectively dedicated to St. Eulogius, St. Eucherius, and St.
Euschemon, whose tintinnabulation was found to be an effectual safeguard
against all thunderstorms. Let the heavens be ever so murky, it was merely
requisite to set the bells ringing, and no lightning flashed and no thunder
peal broke over the town, nor was the neighbouring country within hearing
of them ravaged by hail or flood.

One day the three saints, Eulogius, Eucherius, and Euschemon, were sitting
together, exceedingly well content with themselves and everything around
them, as indeed they had every right to be, supposing that they were in
Paradise. We say supposing, not being for our own part entirely able to
reconcile this locality with the presence of certain cans and flagons,
which had been fuller than they were.

"What a happy reflection for a Saint," said