a slight meridional accent." The rosy
light of the candelabrum beamed upon his cadaverous lips.

"Sprinkle me with perfumes, crown me with flowers, that thus I may enter
upon eternal sleep."

Memorable words--the last words of Gabriel de Mirabeau. They embody the
spirit of his sterile philosophy, and are in unison with the
evanescence of his genius.[16] As Cagliostro observed the limbs
convulsed and the eyes glazed with a simultaneous pang, he was caught up
again into the darkness, and again his soul hearkened to the whispers of
the Holy Voice.

"Thus," it said, "are those recompensed with disease and satiety, who
are the slaves of their meanest, as of their noblest appetites; thus is
their talisman shattered in the hour of its attainment."

BEETHOVEN.

When the reproachful accents ceased, Balsamo felt his feet once more
pressing the earth, and the breezes rustling against his domino. He was
wandering in the garden of what is termed the Schwarzpanier House,
situated on a slope or glacis in the outskirts of Wahring. The evening
was so far advanced, that candles already twinkled from the upper
windows of the building, while the fires of the kitchens checkered the
shrubs and gravel with patches of glaring light. Through the flowerbeds,
and along the intricate paths of the shrubbery, the Alchemist strolled
at a languid pace, musing upon the things he had already witnessed, when
his vigilant ears caught the tones of a musical instrument. Although it
was scarcely audible from the distance, Cagliostro was struck by the
extreme beauty and _espieglerie_ of the performance. He hurried forward
in the direction from which the sounds proceeded, and at each step they
became more distinguishable and bewitching. After a momentary feeling of
indecision when he reached the walls of the Schwarzpanier, the Alchemist
ascended a flight of steps, and passed through the open casement of a
French-window into a modest sitting-room. The musician whose skill had
attracted him, was seated in the gray twilight at a piano. Cagliostro
scarcely noticed that he was a man of short stature but of muscular
proportions; he scarcely remarked, indeed, either the apartment or its
occupant; his whole consciousness was absorbed in the melody that
streamed from the instrument.

At first, the fingers of the player seemed to frolic over the keys, as
though they toyed with the vibrations of the strings. The sounds were
sportive and jocund; they rippled like