urs of the day among the living, and that in the
twenty-fourth his soul is obliged to return to the infernal regions to
suffer its punishment. Some believe him to be the famous Apollonius of
Tyana; and others the disciple of John, of whom it is said, 'He shall
remain until the last judgment.'"

"A character so wonderful," replied the prince, "cannot fail to give
rise to whimsical conjectures. But all this you profess to know only by
hearsay, and yet his behavior to you and yours to him, seemed to
indicate a more intimate acquaintance. Is it not founded upon some
particular event in which you have yourself been concerned? Conceal
nothing from us."

The Sicilian looked at us doubtingly and remained silent.

"If it concerns something," continued the prince, "that you do not wish
to be made known, I promise you, in the name of these two gentlemen, the
most inviolable secrecy. But speak candidly and without reserve."

"Could I hope," answered the prisoner, after a long silence, "that you
would not make use of what I am going to relate as evidence against me,
I would tell you a remarkable adventure of this Armenian, of which I
myself was witness, and which will leave you no doubt of his
supernatural powers. But I beg leave to conceal some of the names."

"Cannot you do it without this condition?"

"No, your highness. There is a family concerned in it whom I have
reason to respect."

"Let us hear your story."

"It is about five years ago," began the Sicilian, "that at Naples, where
I was practising my art with tolerable success, I became acquainted with
a person of the name of Lorenzo del M-------, chevalier of the Order of
St. Stephen, a young and rich nobleman, of one of the first families in
the kingdom, who loaded me with kindnesses, and seemed to have a great
esteem for my occult knowledge. He told me that the Marquis del M--nte,
his father, was a zealous admirer of the cabala, and would think himself
happy in having a philosopher like myself (for such he was pleased to
call me) under his roof. The marquis lived in one of his country seats
on the sea-shore, about seven miles from Naples. There, almost entirely
secluded from the world, he bewailed, the loss of a beloved son, of whom
he had been deprived by a terrible calamity. The chevalier gave me to
understand that he and his family might perhaps have occasion to employ
me on a matter of the most grave importance, in the hope of gaining
through my secret science