fig, I say, for your bogie-man nonsense! Tell me at
what time doth this phantom choose to show itself." The landlord
shivered and drew his seat closer to the fire.

"Oh, sir, do not jest! What I tell you is no matter for rude laughter.
Begging your pardon for my offer, if you will be patient, I will relate
to you the story, and how my misfortune came from this awful visitant."

Even Michael seemed placated, and after I nodded my head in token of
assent the landlord related to us this story:--

* * * * *

Once upon a time, sirs, when the great and good Louis, sixteenth of his
name, was King of France, this domain was the property of the Duke of
Langlois. The duke was proud and rich, and prouder and haughtier was his
duchess, who was born Berri. Ah! they were mighty folk then, before the
Revolution came with its sharp axes to clip off their heads. This inn
was the stable of the chateau, which stood off yonder in the woods.
Alas! nothing remains of it to-day but a few blackened foundations, for
it was burned to the earth by the red devils in '93. But at the time I
speak of, the chateau was a big, rich palace, full of gay folk; all the
nobility came there, and the duchess ruled the land.

She was crazy for music, and to such lengths did she go in her madness
that she even invited as her guests celebrated composers and singers.
The duke was old-fashioned and hated those crazy people who lived only
to hum and strum. He would have none of them, and quarrels with his
duchess were of daily occurrence. Indeed, sirs, so bad did it become
that he swore that he would leave the house if Messire Gluck, or Messire
Piccini, or any of the other strolling vagabonds--so the duke called
them--entered his chateau. And he kept his word, did the duke. The
Chevalier Gluck, a fine, shapely man, was invited down by the duchess
and amused her and her guests by playing his wonderful tunes on the
beautiful harpsichord in the great salon.

The duke would have none of this nonsense and went to Paris, where he
amused himself gambling and throwing gold into his mistresses' laps. The
duchess kept right on, and then the gossips of the neighbourhood began
to wag their busy tongues. The lady of the chateau was getting very fine
pleasure from the company of the handsome Austrian chevalier. It was
whispered that the Queen Marie Antoinette had looked with favourable
eyes upon the composer, and, furthermore, had lent him cert