inn a curious name. Is there any origin to it?"

"Well, sir," replied the landlord, "it was my grandfather, or great
grandfather, who gave it that name--I'm not sure which."

"But--but, is there no origin to it?--no legend connected with----"

"Oh, as to that, your honour," said the landlord, "folks used to say
that this house was haunted by a lady without a head; but that's a long
time ago. I don't exactly recollect the particulars of the story, but I
have heard my father say, when I was a youngster, that he had seen her;
but it's five and thirty years come Michaelmas that this inn has been in
my hands, and I never see anything of the sort, sir. No, sir; depend
upon it, she don't 'walk' now, sir. Even in my father's time her visits
used to be rare, though my grandfather used to tell me lots of stories
about her when I was a child."

"Do you remember any of those stories?"

"Not now, sir. I only remember hearing say that the lady was a nun; but
for what offence she was beheaded I can't exactly call to mind now."

"Perhaps I might be able to refresh your memory," said the artist. "What
would you say if I really had had a visit from the headless lady last
night?"

"You, sir!" exclaimed the landlord in great astonishment. "You don't
mean to say that you really _did see_----"

"The headless lady. Yes, I do; I mean to say that I had a visit from her
last night."

The landlord opened his eyes and mouth with a look of awe. The guests
remained as if petrified. The captain's red face grew a shade less so.
Mr. Parnassus became livid. The tragedian's hair stood on end. Mr.
Oldstone looked a few years older, while the countenances of the whole
company betrayed various grades of wonder and consternation.

"Ahem!" coughed the chairman of the previous evening, at length breaking
silence. "Perhaps you would not mind telling us about your experiences
of last night, Mr. McGuilp? I am sure we are all most curious to hear
something about this mysterious lady. I have never met anyone yet who
could say that they had seen her, though I have heard over and over
again that she used to 'walk.'"

Thus entreated, our artist proceeded as follows:

Well, then, after I left you, gentlemen, last night, before I retired to
rest, in looking round my apartment, I was much struck with an old
portrait, painted in a very early style, of a lady in a nun's dress. In
spite of the hard style of the period, there was something in the
face--a sort