the staircase. The door of Madame Peyrade was closed. 'How troubled and sad must this poor girl now feel!' thought I, as I turned myself upon my bed in not the best of humors. A bachelor plays but a sorry part in a house where a wedding is taking place. Silence reigned for some time, when it was interrupted by heavy footsteps which ascended the stairs. The steps of wood creaked loudly. Ten to one, he will fall down

What a booby!' exclaimed I. the stairs.'

All became tranquil. I took up a book to change the current of my thoughts. It was a statistical work of the department, enriched by a memoir of Monsieur Peyrade upon the Druidical monuments of the district of Prades. I fell asleep at the third page.

I slept badly and awoke a number of times. It might be about five o'clock in the morning, and I had been awake more than twenty minutes, when a cock crew. Day was about breaking. At this moment I distinctly heard the same heavy footsteps, the same creaking of the stairs which I had heard before I went to sleep. It seemed strange. I tried, while yawning, to divine why Monsieur Alphonse should get up so early. I could imagine nothing that seemed probable. I was about closing my eyes, when my attention was again excited by a strange trampling of feet, with which was presently mingled the ringing of bells, and the noise of doors loudly opened; I then distinguished confused outeries.

'My drunken friend has set fire to something!' thought I, as I leaped from my bed.

Cries

I dressed myself quickly and went out into the corridor. and lamentations proceeded from the opposite extremity, and a piercing voice was heard above all the others, exclaiming, 'My son! my son!' It was evident that some accident had happened to Monsieur Alphonse. I ran to the bridal chamber; it was full of persons. The first object which met my eyes was the young man half dressed, stretched across the bed, the frame work of which was broken. He was livid and motionless. His mother was weeping and uttering wild shrieks at his side. Monsieur Peyrade in extreme agitation, was rubbing his temples with cologne water, and putting salts to his nostrils. Alas! his son had been for some time dead. On a couch, at the other end of the room, lay the bride in strong convulsions. She uttered inarticulate cries, and two stout maidservants could scarcely hold her.

'Good God!' cried I, 'what has happened?' I approached the bed, and raised the body of the unfortunate young man; he was already cold and stiff. The set teeth and blackened face expressed the most horrible agony. It was evident that his death had been violent, and that he had suffered terribly. No traces of blood, however, were to be found on his clothes. I drew aside his shirt, and perceived upon the breast a livid mark, which extended around the sides and back. One would have said that he had been enclosed within a circle of fire. My foot touched something hard

which lay upon the carpet; I stooped down and found it was the diamond ring.

I led Monsieur Peyrade and his wife to their own chamber, to which I afterward caused the bride to be conveyed. You have still a daughter,' said I to them; 'she requires all your care.' I then left them alone.

I had no doubt that Monsieur Alphonse had been the victim of an assassination, the perpetrators of which had found means to introduce themselves by night, into the bridal chamber. The bruises upon the breast, and their circular direction embarrassed me a good deal, for a club or bar of iron would not have produced them. Suddenly, I remembered to have heard that at Valencia the bravos are in the habit of using long sacks of leather filled with fine sand, for the purpose of putting to death those for whose murder they have been paid. I immediately recalled to mind the Arragonian muleteer and his threat; although I could scarcely believe that a few random words would have instigated him to so terrible a revenge.

I went throughout the house, seeking all over for traces of a breaking in, but could find none. I then went into the garden to see if the assassins had got in on that side, but could perceive no certain traces. The rain of the preceding evening had besides so softened the ground that it would not well retain an impression. I observed, however, some footprints deeply indented in the soil; they seemed to be in contrary directions but on the same line, leading from the angle of the hedge adjoining the tennis-ground, and terminating at the door of the house. They might have been the steps of Alphonse when he went to look for his ring upon the finger of the statue; or, the hedge being less closely planted at this place than elsewhere, it might have been here that the murderers had effected their entrance. As I passed to and fro before the statue, I stopped a moment to look at it, and I must confess I could not on this occasion behold its expression of ironical wickedness without a sense of dread; and, my head filled with the scene of horror I had just witnessed, I seemed to gaze upon an infernal deity mocking at the calamity which had befallen the house.

I returned to my room, where I remained until mid-day: I then came forth and made inquiries about my hosts. They were a little more composed. Mademoiselle de Puygarey, I should say the widow of Monsieur Alphonse, had recovered her senses. She had even had an interview with the king's attorney of Perpignan, then on circuit at Ille; and this magistrate had received her deposition. He requested mine. I told him all I knew of the melancholy affair, and did not conceal my suspicions of the Arragonian muleteer; for whose arrest he gave immediate directions.

'Have you learned any thing from Madame Alphonse?' said I to the magistrate, after my deposition had been taken down, and signed.

The poor young creature has become completely deranged,' answered he, with a mournful smile. 'Crazy! completely crazy! Her strange story is as follows:

'She had been in bed,' she says, 'a few minutes, the curtains drawn, and every thing silent, when the room door opened, and some one entered. Madame Alphonse was then lying on the farther side of the bed with her face toward the wall. She made no movement, thinking it was her husband. In an instant the bed creaked loudly, as if it had received an enormous weight. She was greatly terrified, but dared not turn her head. Five, ten minutes perhaps for she could form no idea of time — passed in this manner. She then made an involuntary movement, or it might have been the person in bed who made one, and she felt something in contact with her as cold as ice. These are her expressions. She buried herself beneath the bed-clothes, and trembled from head to foot. Shortly afterward, the door opened a second time, and some one entered, who said: 'Good evening my little wife.' Presently, the curtains were withdrawn, and she heard a struggle and a stifled cry. The figure in bed beside her seemed to raise itself to a sitting posture, and to stretch its arms forward. She then turned her head and saw, as she says, her husband on his knees upon the bed, his head as high as the pillow, in the arms of a sort of greenish-colored giant, who embraced him with great force. She says, and the poor creature has repeated it to me at least twenty times - she says, that she recognized —can you guess what?- the bronze Venus; the statue of Monsieur Peyrade! Since this piece of sculpture has been here, every body, I think, has gone mad. But I am merely repeating the narration of the unhappy lunatic. At this spectacle, she became senseless, and probably for some moments lost her reason. How long she remained in this swoon she can form no idea. When she came to herself, she again saw the phantom, or the statue, as she persists in calling it, immovable, the lower part of the body in bed, the bust and arms extended forward; and between the arms, her husband lifeless and motionless. A cock crowed; on which the statue got out of bed, let fall the dead body, and departed. Madame Alphonse pulled the night-bell, and you know what followed.'

They brought in the Spaniard; he was composed, and defended himself with much coolness and presence of mind. He did not deny the speech I had overheard, but explained.it, by saying that he only meant that on the morrow, when he was rested, he would beat his antagonist a game of tennis. I remember, that he added, 'An Arragonian, when insulted, does not wait until the next day for revenge: had I thought Monsieur Alphonse meant to insult me, he would have had my knife in his body on the spot.'

They compared his shoes with the print of the footsteps in the garden; the shoes were much larger. Beside this, the innkeeper with whom the man lodged, testified that he had passed the whole of the night in rubbing and giving medicines to one of his mules that was sick. It was also proved that this Arragonian was a man of good character, and well known in the neighborhood around, which he visited every year for purposes of traffic. He was accordingly released, with an apology for his detention.

I had almost forgotten the testimony of a domestic, who was the

last person that saw Monsieur Alphonse alive. At the moment he was about going to his wife's chamber, he called to this man, and in an agitated manner, asked him if he knew where I was. The domestic replied that he had not seen me; upon which Monsieur Alphonse gave a heavy sigh, and remained for more than a minute without speaking; he then exclaimed, wildly: Come on, then! the devil must have carried him off too!

6

I asked this man if Monsieur Alphonse had on his diamond ring when he spoke to him. The domestic paused before replying: he at length said, that he believed not; but that he had not paid particular attention. But,' added he, correcting himself, if the ring had been on his finger, I should doubtless have noticed it, for I believed that he had given it to Madame Alphonse.'

While questioning this man, I felt a little of the superstitious terror which the deposition of Madame Alphonse had spread through the house, creeping over me; but observing the king's attorney looking at me with a smile of peculiar meaning, I refrained from farther inquiry.

A few hours after the funeral rites of Monsieur Alphonse, which so closely succeeded those of his marriage, had been performed, I made my arrangements to quit Ille. The carriage of Monsieur Peyrade was to convey me to Perpignan. In spite of his feebleness and distress, the poor old man insisted upon accompanying me as far as the garden gate. We walked in silence, he leaning heavily on my arm, and dragging himself along with difficulty. At the moment of our separation, I cast a last look upon the fatal Venus. I well foresaw that my host, though he did not partake of the terror and hatred with which she inspired the greater part of his family, would be very willing to get rid of an object, which incessantly recalled so frightful a calamity. My intention was to persuade him to place it in a museum. As I hesitated about opening the subject, Monsieur Peyrade turned his head mechanically in the direction, toward which he saw me looking so fixedly. He saw the statue, and immediately burst into tears. I embraced him, and without venturing to say a single word, entered the carriage.

Since my departure, I have not learned that any thing has transpired to throw light upon this mysterious catastrophe.

Monsieur Peyrade died a few months after his son. By his will, he bequeathed me his manuscripts, which I may possibly some day publish. I did not, however, find among them the memoir relating to the inscriptions on the Venus.

P. S. My friend Monsieur de P- has just written to me from Perpignan, informing me that the statue is no longer in existence. After the death of her husband, the first care of Madame Peyrade was to have it cast into a bell, under which new form it now serves the church of Ille. But, added Monsieur de P—, it seems as if bad luck continues to attend the possessors of this bronze. Since this bell has sounded at Ille, the vines have been twice frozen.