cks,
entered the hall by a door opposite to that which Charles had opened. He
who walked first, and who appeared the most important of the prisoners,
stopped in the middle of the hall, before the block, which he looked at
with supreme contempt. At the same time the corpse on the throne trembled
convulsively, and a crimson stream flowed from his wounds. The young man
knelt down, laid his head on the block, the ax glittered in the air for a
moment, descended on the block, the head rolled over the marble pavement,
and reached the feet of the king, and stained his slipper with blood.
Until this moment surprise had kept Charles silent, but this horrible
spectacle roused him, and advancing two or three steps toward the throne,
he boldly addressed the figure on its left in the well-known formulary,
"If thou art of God, speak; if of the other, leave us in peace."

The phantom answered slowly and solemnly, "King Charles, this blood will
not flow in thy time, but five reigns after." Here the voice became less
distinct, "Woe, woe, woe to the blood of Vasa!" The forms of all the
assembly now became less clear, and seemed but colored shades: soon they
entirely disappeared; the lights were extinguished; still they heard a
melodious noise, which one of the witnesses compared to the murmuring of
the wind among the trees, another to the sound a harp string gives in
breaking. All agreed as to the duration of the apparition, which they said
lasted ten minutes. The hangings, the head, the waves of blood, all had
disappeared with the phantoms, but Charles's slipper still retained a
crimson stain, which alone would have served to remind him of the scenes
of this night, if indeed they had not been but too well engraven on his
memory.

When the king returned to his apartment, he wrote an account of what he
had seen, and he and his companions signed it. In spite of all the
precautions taken to keep these circumstances private, they were well
known, even during the lifetime of Charles, and no one hitherto has
thought fit to raise doubts as to their authenticity.

STREET-SCENES OF THE FRENCH USURPATION.

A writer in Dickens's Household Words gives a graphic sketch of a visit to
Paris during the recent usurpation of Louis Napoleon, and of the scenes of
butchery which occurred in the streets. On arriving in Paris, he says,
every thing spoke of the state of siege. The newspapers were in a state of
siege; for the Government had suspended