used to see a father
confessor, and died in his sins.

"He was succeeded by his son, a peaceful and studious youth, much
beloved by the people, who did not seem to inherit a drop of the old
Baron's blood. In some of his later descendants, however, the spirit of
the old Baron seemed to reign again. When the death of the Baron was
made known, great rejoicings manifested themselves in the neighbourhood.
Everyone wanted to know the particulars of the Baron's mysterious end.
Strange stories were set afloat, many of which are believed to this day.
But one thing universally believed is, that, as a punishment for his
sins, the Baron's spirit is condemned to inhabit the form of a flea of
uncommon size, which sucks the blood of all strangers who sleep in that
bed. His power, however, is confined to that chamber. Other rooms are
left unmolested. The marks left on the body by the bite of this fell
insect are extremely large, being about the size of a wen, and the pain
endures for a considerable time. I can speak from experience, for I have
been bitten myself. The flea may be seen by anyone who chooses to sleep
in that room. One night spent in that chamber will be enough to convince
any unbeliever of the truth of my assertion.

"Many and futile have been the attempts to catch this obnoxious insect.
It eludes all chase. It was not for many years after the Baron's death,
and until many of the occupants of that chamber had been repeatedly
bitten, and all attempts to capture the offensive creature had been
abandoned in despair, that the belief that the Baron's spirit inhabited
its fell body grew firmly rooted in the minds of the surrounding gentry.

"If, after what I have related to you, sir, you feel inclined to change
your room, I shall have much pleasure in making you up a bed in another
chamber, although it is against the Baron's orders; for, knowing what a
wretched night you _must_ spend within that haunted chamber, I feel a
compassion for you, sir, and all strangers that the Baron cruelly hands
over to the spirit of his wicked ancestor."

"On the contrary, Mrs. Wharton," I said, "I have the greatest curiosity
to encounter this wonderful flea. Your conversation has been most
interesting, and as it is now past ten o'clock, I don't care how soon I
make his aristocratic acquaintance."

"Do as you please, sir," said Mrs. Wharton, "but if you should feel
uncomfortable in the night, you've but to knock at my door, the next
room to y