20 The Woman of Visionn ; |[JuLy, 



" As you do not positively deny the existence of vampires, you may 

 fairly forgive me my opinions as to second-sight." 



" I am sometimes tolerant enough. For instance, I should have no 

 courage to mock at this rustic altar ; and were I to see St. Nicholas in 

 the place of that Jladonna, I could pray with all my heart ; for there is 

 a something national to me in the arrangement of this style of chapel." 



" I dislike exterior signs : but this sabre, this firelock, placed thus, to 

 bring back the recollections of a youth devoted to the defence of one's 

 country, seem to me the most interesting of trophies." 



The first sun-rays, darting through the ill-closed joints of their shut- 

 ters, awoke the two travellers next morn, who immediately arose, and, 

 after having saluted their hosts, took their way to the dwelling of Zia 

 Sacra. 



An exterior staircase led to the first floor — an immense room, fur- 

 nished merely with benches of chesnut-wood. In the middle, on a large 

 table, loaded with a profusion of the provisions of the country, were 

 placed fifteen plates and forks. Not seeing any person, nor hearing any 

 sound, the travellers advanced to the extremity of the apartment, where 

 a second staircase, much more precipitous than the first, presented itself. 

 They mounted, and entered a room, from which the light was partially 

 excluded by a half-closed blind. 



A female, who sat spinning near the window, arose at their entrance, 

 and advanced towards them. Her height was gigantic, and a black 

 robe, bound low down round her waist, completely shewed her figure. 

 A bandeau of white linen covered her'forehead even to the brows; and 

 her long hair, plaited and rolled several times round her head, formed a 

 isort of turban above the bandeau. Her cheeks were sunken and faded ; 

 but she bore no other signs of age — for her hair was of the deepest black, 

 and her teeth in perfection. Her eyes, large and full, shone brilliantly 

 at intervals ; but surrounded by a blueish circle, and shaded by long 

 eyelashes, generally humid with tears, their habitual expression was a 

 profound sadness. 



The two friends felt themselves penetrated with respect at the 

 approach of this personage, who, before addressing any question to them, 

 presented two chairs, and took a third herself; silently fixing her eyes on 

 Lord Charles, while she said, " Thou art a foreigner — what wouldst 

 thou with me?" 



" I have been told that you are a descendant from the famous Sam- 

 pietro d'Ornano. IMy family has been allied with his." 



" The mother of Sampietro had a brother : it is from him that I 

 descend. But thou — thou art truly a son of Sampietro. You have his 

 figure, his height. May Heaven give you his heart, for the good of 

 your country !" 



" My good mother," said the count, " it is, I think, something more 

 than two centuries since that Sampietro died ; how, then, may you know 

 that my friend resembles him? 



" My son," replied Sacra, " nevei*, for thy own sake, mayst thou have 

 the fearful knowledge of the connexion between the dead and the 

 living !" 



" You could teach it then ?" 

 • A transient smile passed across Sacra's lips, as she replied, " The 

 child at the breast comprehends neither the courage of his father, nor 

 the vii'tue of his mother: both, however, exist. Preserve, my son. 



