having really happened, or as being the invention of
a fantastical and overstrained imagination. I kept the MS. by me for
some time, but have finally resolved to translate and publish it,
merely substituting fictitious names for those set down in the
original. The narrative is in some respects incomplete, but whether in
consequence of Adrian's sudden death, or because no further
circumstances connected with it came to his knowledge, I am of course
unable to say. It is as follows:--

I am by birth a Russian, but my childhood and youth were passed at
Hamburg. Owing to the early age at which I lost my father, my
recollections of him are necessarily but imperfect. I remember him as
a tall handsome man, somewhat careworn, constantly engaged in the
correspondence rendered necessary by his numerous commercial
speculations, and frequently absent from home upon journeys or voyages
of greater or less duration. His life had been an anxious one, and his
success by no means constant; but he still persevered, led on by a
sanguine temperament, to hope for that fortune which had hitherto
constantly eluded his grasp.

It was shortly after my tenth birth-day, and we were anxiously
expecting my father's return from a voyage to the East Indies. Before
his departure he had promised my mother, that if he succeeded in the
objects of this distance expedition, he would retire from business,
and settle down quietly to pass the rest of his days in the country.
The letters received from him led her to believe that the result of
his voyage had been satisfactory, and she was therefore anticipating
his return with double pleasure. At last, one evening news was brought
that the ship in which he had taken his passage was come into port,
and just as my mother and myself were leaving the house to go and
welcome the wanderer, my father made his appearance. I will pass over
the transports of joy with which he was received. So soon as they had
a little subsided, he presented to us, under the name of the Signor
Manucci, a dark fine-looking man, who accompanied him, and whom he had
invited to sup with him. I say with _him_, because, to our great
surprise and disappointment, neither my mother nor myself were
admitted to partake of the meal. Hitherto my father's return from his
voyages had been celebrated as a sort of festival. A large table was
laid out, and our friends came in to welcome him, to ask him
innumerable questions, and tell him all that had occur