servants. I
have, therefore, banished it to a room but rarely used; and should have
had it covered last night, had not the nature of our conversation, and
the whimsical talk about a haunted chamber tempted me to let it remain,
by way of experiment, whether a stranger, totally unacquainted with its
story, would be affected by it."

The words of the Baronet had turned every thought into a different
channel: all were anxious to hear the story of the mysterious picture;
and for myself, so strongly were my feelings interested, that I forgot
to feel piqued at the experiment which my host had made upon my nerves,
and joined eagerly in the general entreaty.

As the morning was stormy, and precluded all egress, my host was glad
of any means of entertaining his company; so drawing his arm-chair
beside the fire, he began--

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.

Many years since, when I was a young man, and had just left Oxford, I
was sent on the grand tour to finish my education. I believe my parents
had tried in vain to inoculate me with wisdom; so they sent me to
mingle with society, in hopes I might take it the natural way. Such, at
least, appears to be the reason for which nine-tenths of our youngsters
are sent abroad.

In the course of my tour I remained some time at Venice. The romantic
character of the place delighted me; I was very much amused by the air
of adventure and intrigue that prevailed in this region of masks and
gondolas; and I was exceedingly smitten by a pair of languishing black
eyes, that played upon my heart from under an Italian mantle. So I
persuaded myself that I was lingering at Venice to study men and
manners. At least I persuaded my friends so, and that answered all my
purpose. Indeed, I was a little prone to be struck by peculiarities in
character and conduct, and my imagination was so full of romantic
associations with Italy, that I was always on the lookout for
adventure.

Every thing chimed in with such a humor in this old mermaid of a city.
My suite of apartments were in a proud, melancholy palace on the grand
canal, formerly the residence of a Magnifico, and sumptuous with the
traces of decayed grandeur. My gondolier was one of the shrewdest of
his class, active, merry, intelligent, and, like his brethren, secret
as the grave; that is to say, secret to all the world except his
master. I had not had him a week before he put me behind all the
curtains in Venice. I liked the si