ial friendship and of a
comforted heart. They drew up in order; the procession set itself in
motion; the masks, the fraternities that made it their duty to attend
corpses, ranged themselves in their white gowns, with hooded faces, of
which nothing could be seen but the eyes.

Silently the train moved on: they had now nearly reacht the church,
when a rider on a foaming horse gallopt toward them.

"What is the matter?" cried the youth.

He threw a look into the coffin, and with a shriek of despair turned
his horse, darted away, and in his wild speed lost his hat, so that
his long hair waved about behind him in the evening breeze. He was the
bridegroom, come to the wedding.

Darkness gathered round the train of mourners, and their husht rites,
as the beauteous corpse sank down into the vault of her family.

* * * * *

When the crowd had disperst, the young stranger, who had followed the
procession in wonder mixt with sadness, went up to an old priest who
remained alone praying by the grave. He longed to learn who that
majestic old man was, that had seemed to him gifted with god-like
powers and more than earthly wisdom.

When the youth had laid his question modestly before the priest, the
latter stood up and, by the light of a lamp that shone upon them from
a window, lookt sharply into his eye.

The old man had a little spare form; his pale narrow face hightened
the fire of his eyes yet more; and his pincht lips quivered, as with
hoarse voice he answered: "How! you don't know him? our far-famed
Petrus of Apone, or Abano, of whom people talk in Paris, and London,
and in the German Empire, and throughout all Italy? You know not the
greatest of philosophers and physicians, of astronomers and
astrologers, to learn from whom and to see whom the wild youth flock
hither from the far parts of Poland?"

The young Spaniard, Alfonso, had moved back a step in delighted
surprise; for the renown of this great teacher had driven him too from
Barcelona over the sea. "Then it was he, it was himself!" he cried
enthusiastically: "this too was why my heart felt so deeply moved. My
spirit recognized his. O generous, pious man, how I love you for
honouring him no less than do all the noble-minded and good in the
Christian world!"

"You too mean perchance to study under him?" askt the priest with a
bitter tone.

"Certainly," answered the other, "if he will vouchsafe to receive me
among his scholars."