heart that the hero of our
tale entered the town of Syracuse. But suddenly he remembered the
singular nature of the inquiry that he was there to make--an inquiry
concerning a man whose years had numbered one hundred and sixty-two!

"Nevertheless," thought Wagner, "that good angel who gave me a sign
whereby I should become convinced of the reality of her appearance, and
whose promises have all been fulfilled up to this point, could not
possibly mislead me. No; I will obey the command which I received, even
though I should visit every human dwelling in the town of Syracuse! For
Heaven works out its wise purposes in wondrous manners; and it is not
for me to shrink from yielding obedience to its orders, nor to pause to
question their propriety. And oh! if I can but shake off that demon
influence which weighs upon my soul--if I can but escape from the
shackles which still enchain me to a horrible doom, how sincere will be
my thanks to Heaven, how unbounded my rejoicings!"

As Wagner had reached this point in his meditations, he stopped at the
door of a barber shop of mean appearance--the pole, with the basin
hanging to it, denoting that the occupant of the place combined, as was
usual in those times, the functions of shaver and blood-letter or
surgeon. Hastily surveying the exterior of the shop, and fancying that
it was precisely the one at which his inquiries should commence--barbers
in that age being as famous for their gossiping propensities as in
this--Fernand entered, and was immediately accosted by a short,
sharp-visaged, dark-complexioned old man, who pointed to a seat, saying
in a courteous, or rather obsequious tone, "What is your will, signor?"

Fernand desired the barber-surgeon to shave his superfluous beard and
trim his hair; and while that individual was preparing his lather and
sharpening his razor in the most approved style of the craft, Wagner
asked in a seemingly careless tone, "What news have you, good master, in
Syracuse?"

"Naught of importance, signor," was the reply; "mere everyday matters.
Syracuse is indeed wretchedly dull. There were only two murders and
three attempts at assassination reported to the lieutenant of police
this morning, and that is nothing for a town usually so active and
bustling as ours. For my part, I don't know what has come over the
people? I stepped as far as the dead-house just now to view the body of
a young lady, unclaimed as yet, who had her head nearly severed from her