ror came and
to whom it once belonged?" he continued. "Have you?" I asked, for he
spoke with meaning. "It's incredible," said he, "and yet how else can
one explain it? The scenes which you described before suggested it, but
now it has gone beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring you some
notes in the evening."

_Later._--He has just left me. Let me set down his words as closely as I
can recall them. He began by laying several musty volumes upon my bed.

"These you can consult at your leisure," said he. "I have some notes
here which you can confirm. There is not a doubt that what you have seen
is the murder of Rizzio by the Scottish nobles in the presence of Mary,
which occurred in March, 1566. Your description of the woman is
accurate. The high forehead and heavy eyelids combined with great beauty
could hardly apply to two women. The tall young man was her husband,
Darnley. Rizzio, says the chronicle, 'was dressed in a loose
dressing-gown of furred damask, with hose of russet velvet.' With one
hand he clutched Mary's gown, with the other he held a dagger. Your
fierce, hollow-eyed man was Ruthven, who was new-risen from a bed of
sickness. Every detail is exact."

"But why to me?" I asked, in bewilderment. "Why of all the human race to
me?"

"Because you were in the fit mental state to receive the impression.
Because you chanced to own the mirror which gave the impression."

"The mirror! You think, then, that it was Mary's mirror--that it stood
in the room where the deed was done?"

"I am convinced that it was Mary's mirror. She had been Queen of France.
Her personal property would be stamped with the Royal arms. What you
took to be three spear-heads were really the lilies of France."

"And the inscription?"

"'Sanc. X. Pal.' You can expand it into Sanctae Crucis Palatium. Some one
has made a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It was the Palace
of the Holy Cross."

"Holyrood!" I cried.

"Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. You have had one very singular
experience, and have escaped. I trust that you will never put yourself
into the way of having such another."

XI

THE HOME-COMING

In the spring of the year 528, a small brig used to run as a passenger
boat between Chalcedon on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. On the
morning in question, which was that of the feast of Saint George, the
vessel was crowded with excursionists who were bound for the great city
in order to take