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"If I offend you, my noble lord," replied Rubinelli, "by my simple but honest endeavours to acquaint you with every thing that befel me on my journey into Tuscany, and in recounting the va-. riety of misfortunes which happened to me at Valleroy, my lips are now closed on that subject for ever."

The count could not but notice the firmness with which his steward had last spoken; and as, from the natural loquacity of age, there was no alternative to obtain possession of the sequel of Rubinelli's adventures, but from a regular detail of them, he was obliged calmly to submit to this dilatory mode of proceeding; and therefore, with less impetuosity, Anselmo again desired he would continue.

This command was promptly obeyed, as follows:-"I could not be induced to relinquish my prize, from the wish of preserving it for your inspection, my lord," said Rubinelli; "and therefore having

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having carefully concealed it beneath my cloak, I again sallied forth, on observing, at the end of a long vestibule, the door at which I had entered the building. The passage was very gloomy, and an inconceivable dread of yet being detected as a robber, before I could leave the place, still agitated my spirits. I proceeded with great fear, but had not gone far, before I fancied that I heard footsteps behind me, rapidly approaching. A heavy and lengthened groan of deep distress then assailed my ears; and the next moment my flight was arrested, by a cold, damp hand of some person laying hold of me by the shoulder: my blood even now freezes at the recollection of it," ejaculated Rubinelli. instantly dropped the papers I had so unduly taken, and begged for my life. The figure then stood before-me; which I can, and shall most positively assert, to the end of my being, was not of human kind. My limbs shrunk at the spectre's touch.

touch. It was of gigantic height, enveloped from head to foot in black; the eyes of the figure emitted fire, as it spoke, in a hollow, sepulchral tone, to this effect, that death awaited me for my bold attempt at searching the sanctuary of departed spirits.

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"I confessed my crime," said Rubinelli; " disclosed my real intentions for coming to Valleroy; and implored, with bended knees, that before I died, I might be permitted to acquaint my revered master with the melancholy fate of the countess Anselmo.-Now mark, my lord,” he continued, with eagerness and wonder painted on his countenance, answer of the spectre: If I do spare thee the punishment impending over thy head, thou must abstain from evil, and do good. That moment it is forgotten, or departed from, I shall be again with thee-and for ever!' The spirit then concluded in a more commanding voice, 'Ere the sun is risen, thou must leave Valleroy; on thy return to the count An

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selmo, say this Almerta is restored to liberty. The favourite of Heaven lives in the mansions of peace and eternal glory! The dreadful form then instantly vanished; and I, my lord," said Rubinelli, "dragged, although with extreme difficulty, my trembling feet to the entrance of this spiritual sepulchre; and before the sky was even tinged with the rays of the sun, I was (thanks to the Holy Virgin!) at a considerable distance from the haunted castle, and again on my journey for Turin." Thus concluded Rubinelli's adventures at Valleroy.

The counf, for some time afterwards, sat ruminating on the mysterious reception he had met with in the temple; yet still Anselmo cherished the idea of the life of his beloved Almeria having been spared, through the friendly interposition of the confessor Lodovico. On his inquiry whether the letter to him had been personally delivered? Rubinelli answered, That the confessor was at véspers;

it was therefore given in charge to the porter of the convent gate." Yet the count flattered himself that the monk had eventually received it, and acted according to his wishes. The supposed visionary appearance he concluded to be Lodovico, who had assumed that character to hasten Rubinelli from Valleroy, with intelligence of the safety of the countess, and to elude the notice of the officers. The greatest mystery, therefore, in his opinion, was the papers found by his steward, with the written signature on them of Eleonora. The count had been long apprized of Lodovico having em-braced a monastic life, through an unfortunate attachment; and therefore, the only way he could solve that enigma was, by supposing the object of it to be the ill-fated Eleonora Rodolphus: and to divert his mind with the continual remembrance of a youthful passion, he had written the history of her life, which was F 4 accidentally

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