sort of hot cold, and as if my legs were water.  I don’t know how I managed to raise my gun,—­I did it quite dreaming like; it went off with the biggest noise ever a gun made, and the bullet must have gone through the very head of the ghost, for it waved its thin arms fearfully.  All the rest ran away, but I could not move a peg.  Then a terrible voice roared out, ’I shall not forget thee, my friend!  I will visit thee again before thy last hour!  Now begone!’”

Beppo ceased speaking, and a shuddering silence fell on the listeners.  Martina alone ventured on the awe-struck whisper of “What was it like, Beppo?”

“A tall, white figure; its arms spread out like a cross,—­so,” replied Beppo, rising from his basket, the better to personate the ghost. “Jesu Maria!” he shrieked, “there it is!  O Lord, have mercy on us!”

And sure enough, standing against the door was a tall, white figure, its arms spread out like the limbs of a cross.  Screams, both shrill and discordant, filled the room,—­Martini, Beppo, Marietta, and the girls tumbling and rushing about distraught with terror.  Such a mad-like scene!  There was a trembling and a shaking of the white figure for a moment, then down it went in a heap to the floor, and out came the substantial proportions of Doctor Morani, looming formidable in the dusky light of the expiring embers.  The sound of his well-known vigorous laugh resounded through the kitchen, as he flung a bunch of pine branches on the fire.  The next moment a bright flame shot up, and the light as by magic brought the scared group to their senses.  Each looked into the faces of the others with an expression of rising merriment struggling with ghastly fear, and first a long-drawn breath of relief, and then a burst of laughter broke from all.

“What a fright you have given us, Padrone!” Beppo was the first to say.

“I hope so,” replied the Doctor,—­“it has only paid you off for the one you gave me twenty years ago.”

“I!—­you!—­but how, caro Padrone?”

“Ah! you haven’t yet, I assure you, recognized your old acquaintance, the identical ghost which you favored with a bullet.  Would you like to see it once more?”

“Pazienza!” exclaimed Beppo, “for once,—­twice;—­but three times,—­no, that is more than enough.  I am satisfied with what I have seen.”

“Do you know what you have seen?” resumed the Doctor.  “Very well, listen to me.  When the Rector refused to let poor Hans lie in the same ground with many of our townspeople who (God rest their souls!) had lived scarcely so honest a life as he had done, I was far from imagining that he was to be thrust into the tower, of all places in the world, and just when it was well known I had bargained for it.  ‘That’s the way I am to be used, is it?’ thought I. I’ll play you a trick, my friends, worth two of yours,—­one that will make you glad to give honest Hans hospitality in your churchyard.’