l had departed, it is, perhaps, no great wonder. The Tana was not
a very agreeable abode. Dreariness within doors and without, a poverty
unredeemed by that graceful content which so often sheds its influence
over humble fortune, a wearisome round of life--these were the
characteristics of a spot which, in a manner, was associated in his mind
with all the sufferings of a sickbed. Yet no sooner had he learned that
Gabriel was gone, than he felt as if a load were removed from his heart,
and that even by the shores of that gloomy lake, or on the sides of
those barren hills, he might now indulge his own teeming fancies, and
live in a world of his own thoughts.

It was no common terror that possessed him; his studies as a child had
stored his memory with many a dreadful story of satanic temptation. One
in particular he remembered well, of St. Francis, who, accompanied by a
chance traveller, had made a journey of several days; but whenever the
saint, passing some holy shrine or sacred spot, would kneel to pray, the
most terrible blasphemies would issue from his lips instead of prayer;
for his fellow-traveller was the Evil One himself. What if Gabriel had
some horrible mission of this kind? There was enough in his look, his
manner, and his conversation to warrant the belief. He half laughed
when the thought first crossed his mind, but it came up again and
again, gaining strength and consistency at each recurrence; nor was the
melancholy desolation of the scene itself ill suited to aid the dreary
conjecture. Though Gabriel had confided to him the key of his chamber
where all his books were kept, Gerald passed days before he could summon
resolution to enter it. A vague terror--a dread to which he could not
give shape or form--arrested his steps, and he would turn away from
the door and creep noiselessly down the stairs, as though afraid of
confessing, even to himself, what his errand had been.

At last, ashamed of yielding to this childish fear, he took a moment
when old Pippo and his niece were at work in the garden, to explore
the long-dreaded chamber. The room was very different from what he had
anticipated, and presented a degree of comfort singularly in contrast to
the rest of the Tana. Maps and book-shelves covered the walls, with
here and there prints, mostly portraits of celebrated actresses. A large
table was littered with letters and papers, left just as Gabriel had
quitted the spot. Great piles of manuscript, too, show