Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1839-02-01

of delay, was about TO depart. when the
note sounded for the thid time. The deep
low arch, with its pillar work and Gothic
sculpture, was close ct hand. He pushed
the door it opened a, his touch, and as he
made a step forward into the dim and
empty space, slipped from bis hind, ond
closed behind him. At this moment, the
clock struck twelve. The building
is now used only vestibule to
the larger church beyond, but is in i'selfa
most curious and venerable monumen Mt and
contains the tombs of several knights clad
IN armour, and with their legs cfosscd.--
There was now no sound audible but his
own footsteps as he walked across the wide
area, and again turned While he paced
the pavement, his former confused and
wavering thoughts pursued him still. At
last, be exclaimed, half aloud, "If so much
of pain and self,reproach cllngs inscparably
TO this miserable identity fmine, why can
not cast 1t off, and migrate into some
new form of being p
You can = answered low clear voice,
apparently close at hand.
Arthur was brave by temperament. and
his Imagination had familiarised him with
innumerabe kinds of danger. But he now
looking round saw, not four vnrds from
lin, human figure. II was an old man
10 a long dress, the form of which was not
distinctly visible, while in the twilight. be
white head and venerable features stood
out like those Of saint in some early Ger.
man picture. So have the more ancient
artists often represented Joseph, the hus-
band Of Mary.
Would you'-he said, in a sweet but
melancholy voice i'm truth, accept the
offer of exchanging, at your own pleasure,
your own personal existence for that Of
other men''
After a moments pause, he answered
boldly, Yes
i can bes'ow the power, but only upon
these conditions. You will be able to az.
sumo new par, in life only once in every
week. For the one hour az err midnight on
each Saturday, that is. for The first hour Of
the new week, you will remember all that
you have been, and whatever characters
you may have chosen for yourself At the
end of the hour, you may make new
choice. but if then deferred, it will be again
a week before the opportunity will recur
anew. You will also be capable Of re-
veallng to any one the power with which
you are gifted. And if you once resume
your present being. you will never again
: be able TO cast it off IF, on these terms.
YOU agree to my proposal. take this ring.
and wear it on the forefinger of your right
; hand. 1t bears the head of tie famous
Appolonius of Tyana. If you breathe up
on it at the appointed hour you will imme-
> dately become any person whom you may
; desire to be of those already existing in the
age you live in. and who in this age are
D.. alone possible
Arthur hesilated, and said, Before I
e assent to yonr offer, tell me whether you
r yourself would think me wise to do So.
!. Young man. were | to choose again, nv
e only choice would be to fill the situation
t where nature brought me forth, and where
: God, therefore, doubtless designed me to
, work. II you accept my ring, it must be
e used this night, or it will vanish from your
e hand. If not, return to your dwelling, and
e devote yourself to the duties which your
e present state imposes on you.
Arthur remembered his deso'ate cham
n Der, the hopeless manuscript, and unpaid
d bills, and The melancholy image of Mara.
d whom, for years, he could not hope to make
r his own. lie held out his hand, received
n the ring, and placed i. on his finger.
The night was now so much obscured.
:, that he could hardly see the figure Of the
IS old man. But he heard the words, Re-
c member, that if the present hour passes
. before you have made your choice, you
l. will lose for ever the privilege you have
Il Obtained
y 1t now became altogether dark, and Ar.
d thur felt that he was alone. He remained
IS in mournful perplexty overpowered by The
s,rangeness Of the event. But he still felt
n the ring upon his finger, and knew that he
J. was not dreaming. The moments flew on
J. and on, and the quarter had struck twice
e since he received the ring, so that but few
a minutes of the hour now remained. At
Is last he began to consider that he must
Il needs, at all events, compose his mind and
y come 20 some determination. Blu, when
n he endeavored 20 decide what he should
g do, what character he should choose to
j. assume. thousand images seemed floating
a confusedy before him. and none of them
% distinct enough to secure his preference.
~ He fanced that all the shapes he had ever
10 seen flowing along the nelghboring streets
n OF the city were now with him in the old
'e church. But he could bring no one more
he vlyldly before his eyes than another. AT
e length, single figure separated itself from
= the crowd, he knew not how or why. He
y regarded it with mingled feeling Of envy
s. and dislike. But, at this moment, he heard
re the preparatory jarring Of the clock, ant
~ feeling spe,bound to use the ring, he rails
re ed his hand toward his face. The oDys
Sc head glowed with spark Of fire in the
OF darkness, and while he breathed on it, ant
TO pronounced to himself'n tremulous whis
- per, the name of Sir Charles Harcourt, tn,
= sound of the clock thrilled away. At thu
OF same instant, Arthur Edmonstone cease,
he to be conscious of existence.