and the sallow,
shrunken skin clung close to every muscle of his countenance. His
dark, sunken, and glossy eyes had an unearthly expression, and his air
was melancholy in the extreme. A nameless chill came over the painter
as he surveyed the aspect of his unknown visitor. The stranger coldly
surveyed the productions of the artist, and honored them with a few
brief comments. At length he paused before the veiled picture, and
said, "This picture of your wife belongs to me."

The painter was so strong a believer in the supernatural, had been
subject to so many inexplicable influences, that he felt no surprise
at the stranger's naming the subject of the veiled picture without
uncovering it. But he repeated, sternly, "Belongs to you? What mean
you by that remark?"

"I mean it is, or will be mine, by purchase."

"Not so."

"Then you will not sell it?"

"I will not part with it at any price."

The stranger smiled, but not sneeringly or sarcastically The
expression of his countenance was mournful in the extreme, and
likewise unpleasant, because the parting of his shrivelled lips
displayed his large, yellow teeth in unpleasant relief. He opened the
door, but paused upon the threshold.

"You will not part with it?"

"Once more, no!" replied the painter.

"No matter; the original will soon be mine."

The door closed rapidly behind his noiseless steps. A vague terror
shot through the soul of the artist.

When Esther Vaughan came to the dwelling of the painter, she was
radiant with a health which had triumphed over sorrow and long
watching, but the seeds of disease now fastened upon her frame, and
she sunk under its influence, growing daily feebler. The almost
distracted husband employed the best physicians in the city, and under
their efforts Esther, for a while, seemed to revive. One day, in
solemn conclave, they decided that the patient would live, and
announced the intelligence to the poor painter, as he sat in his
lonely studio, with much pomposity and emphasis. At the time of this
announcement, the painter was standing opposite the open door through
which the physicians had just entered. At the moment when a smile of
gratified love was lighting up his intelligent countenance, his eyes,
looking beyond the group of visitors, caught in the corridor those of
the strange bidder for the veiled picture. The unknown shook his head
slowly and mournfully, then turned and retired.

"Stop him, gentlemen," cried the painte