No matter how fine the autumnal evenings may be in the country, they are sometimes inevitably tedious; and hence it is that those who are scientific in the savoir vivre, have recourse to various amusements to beguile the lazy hours. One will give play to his musical talents; another, while the ladies are occupied with their needlework, will relate stories, anecdotes, or scraps of history. There is a raconteur who is generally more successful than the rest in captivating the attention of his auditory. Hobgoblins, in particular, are a favourite subject, and some display an admirable talent in such recitals, producing strong emotions, and frequently the extreme of fear. Though horror-struck by the events narrated, yet we listen to their recital with breathless delight.

      We were at Renezi, in the splendid mansion occupied by Guillaume du Barry, who had married a charming woman, when M. de Catalan, formerly avocat-general, and afterwards peer of France, a gentleman full of humour and animation, arrived on a visit of a few days. His presence had already given an impetus to our amusements, when some one said, "Ladies, ask M. de Catalan to relate to us the apparition of the President d'Albi?" Immediately all drew closer, and prepared themselves for the supreme delight of being frightened. "But," said M. de Catalan, with the utmost gravity, you do not know, ladies, what you require. This apparition is by no means a fiction, it is a real adventure. I have often heard it told by my father and uncles, who certainly were far from being credulous; it made a great deal of noise at the time, and was connected with a very memorable circumstance, inasmuch as it caused the death of one of the most distinguished members of the parliament of Toulouse."

      We were beginning to think that M. de Catalan, as avocat-general, was about to deliver a preparatory discourse, and begged of him to continue the story, even though we should die of fear.

      He commenced in these terms:— "The President d'Albi, a distinguished magistrate (as I have just told you), possessed an estate a few leagues distant from Toulouse. Every year, during the vacation, he regularly went to pass some time at his estate, from the situation of which, it was necessary to take a by-road; to avoid travelling by night, M. d'Albi always stopped at the Hotel de la Poste, sending his carriage and servants on before him, and the following morning proceeded on horse-back, attended by his faithful companion, Castor, a fine bloodhound. On his return to Toulouse he acted in like manner, sending his carriage on before him to await him at the hotel. The arrival of M. d'Albi at the auberge was always a source of joy to the family. For many years he had been their patron, and had seen all the younger branches married, who considered him as their natural protector.

      "The year in which what I am about to tell you happened, M. d'Albi arrived on horseback, and being obliged to return in haste to Toulouse, he merely drew up at the hotel for the purpose of taking refreshment. But he was greatly surprised at finding all the family overwhelmed with grief and affliction; the master of the hotel had been missing for many days, and, as yet, all search to discover him had proved fruitless. The arrival of the President was a source of consolation to the afflicted family, and they looked with confidence to the measures which his counsel would suggest, and his authority enforce, in aiding them to unravel so mysterious an affair. Accordingly, he summoned the functionaries of the district round him, and gave orders that the most minute inquiries should be made in the environs. Foreseeing that this affair would detain him a considerable time, he sent off his servant with a letter to his lady, lest his delay might cause her uneasiness. These proceedings occupied the entire day; he was fatigued, but before retiring to bed, he repaired to the stable, followed by his dog, lest in all this confusion they should have forgotten to feed his horse — an animal upon which he set a high value.

      "On returning to the house, which was at a little distance, he perceived that Castor did not follow him. He went back and called him several times, but had the greatest difficulty in forcing him to return. The dog had buried himself in a sort of haggard, filled with faggots, which lay just behind the stable, and would not quit it. At length his master, having succeeded in forcing him out, shut the haggard door, and proceeded to bed.

      "As it was yet early, he disposed himself to read, but being overcome by fatigue, he fell into a sound sleep. He had scarcely slept a few hours, when he was awakened by a frightful dream, in which he had seen François, the innkeeper, covered with blood. He was about to speak to him, when a howling from his dog awoke him, and interrupted his dream. Being a man of sound intellect, he naturally attributed this night-mare to the agitation which the events of the day had produced, and considered it nothing more than nervous excitement. With this assurance he soon fell asleep again, but the same figure presented itself to his imagination, and this time with much more distinctness. The innkeeper now addressed him: 'I have been assassinated,' said he, 'by the stable-boy, whom I discharged last year, having had a quarrel with him, in which I upbraided him with dishonesty. He is a Catalonian; and ever since retained a feeling of vengeance in his heart. It was he who committed the crime. My body will be found buried under the faggots in the haggard behind the stable, where seldom any one enters. You must dig deep to verify the revelation I now make you. Have my body honoured with the rights of Christian burial. You shall be recompensed.'

      "M. d'Albi awoke again, covered with a cold sweat. He almost reproached himself with pusillanimity, which, by allowing his sleep to be interrupted, betrayed his weakness. He endeavoured to sleep, but twice the same vision pursued him. No longer able to support his anxiety, he lighted a wax taper, and endeavoured to captivate his attention with an interesting book, whilst awaiting the morning. Vain hope! he recommenced the same passage over and over without being able to understand a word of what he read. His distracted eye could not fix itself on the page. His dream was continually recurring to his mind, and he could think of nothing else. In spite of all his efforts to the contrary, he retraced its minutest details. He reflected, too, on the obstinacy of his dog in remaining in the haggard which had been pointed out by the murdered man. He felt his firmness shaken, and then, to justify his weakness, his memory furnished him with a similar fact published in the Causes Célèbres.^*

* "Two friends were travelling together on horseback; one stopped at a village; the other continued his journey. The same night that they separated, the friend who had stopped in the village dreamed that his companion was exposed to great danger, that he had called on him to assist him, and pointed out to him the means. Twice he fell asleep, but each time his friend appeared before him. The last time, he reproached him for not having listened to his entreaties, and indicated the place where he could assure himself of all the circumstances. It was not far from the town. The young man, tormented by this vision, yielded to the impulse of his imagination, repaired to the place, found his friend assassinated, and all the details perfectly accurate."

      "In fine, no longer able to resist the uneasiness which he felt, the President arose, dressed himself, and as soon as morning dawned he hastened to the stable, accompanied by his dog, which ran barking straight to the haggard. M. d'Albi felt influenced by a strange sentiment of terror; for he could not dissemble his belief that he was upon the point of seeing realized that which his understanding and his good sense repudiated as an error inconsistent with the belief of any sound-minded person. — How bring himself to admit supernatural agencies in a matter of this description?

      "The inexplicable fact was about, however, to be established. Surprised by the singular motions of his dog, he called some peasants, who were going to their work; after having removed the faggots, he made them dig up the earth at the precise spot where the dog was scraping with his feet. Judge of the fright of these good people and of the horror of the President, at discovering the remains of a corpse, in a state of putrefaction! He came out of the haggard, had the doors shut, and insisted on the peasants observing the strictest secrecy, until they should have discovered the assassin, and thus prevented him from escaping the hands of justice.

      "The formalities being accomplished, they succeeded in finding the stable-boy in a neighbouring village. All the details turned out to be exact, but the discovery was attributed to Castor, for M. d'Albi, as you may well suppose, never spoke of the vision, which caused him, nevertheless, a great deal of uneasiness.

      "The assassin was conducted to the city prison; the unfortunate François was buried; and the President, after having assisted at his interment, and given the family all the consolation he could, departed for Toulouse, promising to return when the trial came on. The occupations attendant on the eminent place he filled in parliament, had soon dissipated the pensive air which was remarkable on his arrival; he seldom thought of this extraordinary circumstance, but still he thought of it.

      "As soon as the trial commenced, M. d'Albi repaired to the town, to follow up the prosecution. The Catalonian — convicted of the assassination of François — was condemned, and the President made arrangements for his departure. During the trial, which lasted several days, he went to his estate every night, and returned to town in the morning; but as this was the eve of his departure for Toulouse, he remained at the Hotel de la Poste.

      "He had not his dog with him this night, Castor having followed the servant. M. d'Albi was altogether alone in his chamber, when the apparition stood again before him! This time, indeed, he was less frightened; habit is every thing. It is probable, however, that the President would willingly have dispensed with the dead man's gratitude. 'You have had me honoured,' said the apparition, 'with Christian burial; through you I have obtained justice on my enemy. What can I do to recompense you for this service?' M. d'Albi, in his dream, asked him to inform him of the day on which he would die. The vision promised it, and disappeared.

      "Since this new episode, which was not known for some time after, the President's manner changed; he became gloomy, pensive and absent; never hinting to his wife nor to his dearest friends the cause of this change. His affairs were never more prosperous, and he felt that he would have been the happiest of men, but for the want of confidence which he betrayed in not imparting this secret to his wife, by whom he was loved to excess.

      "Every effort to draw forth the President proved ineffectual; he persisted in maintaining that they were mistaken, that he was always the same, and that age brings gravity of manner and a reflective disposition. His habits remained unchanged, only it was remarked that he seldom went to his estate, and never slept at the Hotel de la Poste. But the family which had charge of the hotel, and his own servant, were the only persons who remarked this.

      "Ten or twelve years had now elapsed: M. d'Albi had in a great measure resumed his wonted serenity; as the interval increased, his melancholy impressions had gradually disappeared; when one night, being in a profound sleep, one of his old dreams returned, and François, the innkeeper, stood before him! He approached him, covered with his shroud. 'You wished to know when your last hour shall arrive,' said he to him, with a sepulchral voice. The vision extended its bony arm to the clock; and placing its finger on the point of midnight, exclaimed, 'In one month, and at the same hour!'

      "The President violently pulled the bell which was placed at the head of his bed. His domestics found him in a state of great mental excitement, repeating incoherent words, which nobody understood; his physician was sent for immediately, who, after having administered to him a narcotic draught, ordered him a warm bath. For several days the President was either delirious or in a state of deplorable dejection. At length he became gradually more calm; and having completely recovered his senses, requested his wife to leave him alone with his brother-in-law, a man of strong mind and sound judgment, whom he wished to consult.

      "When every one had retired, he related to him, with the most scrupulous minuteness of detail, all that I have just told you. You may very easily conceive that his brother-in-law was not a little surprised at this strange revelation, and concluded that the President's mind was affected with a species of monomania. But every thing was related with the utmost precision, the circumstances minutely detailed, and the witnesses of the material fact were still living; besides M. d'Albi was not a weak-minded man. Since that strange event had happened, he had, upon numerous occasions, manifested his excellent judgment in the capacity of a magistrate; but a fixed idea upon this point might have tormented his imagination, and his brother was at a loss what arguments to employ to convince a man so strangely infatuated.

      "'If you take my advice,' said he, 'you will consult our pastor upon the matter; he is your spiritual director and the director of your family; he is besides a man of merit, and an enlightened guide.' M. d'Albi approved of his counsel, and sent to request the clergyman's attendance. He related to him, word for word, all the circumstances of the apparition; and asked his opinion on the matter. The pastor, equally embarrassed as M. d'Albi's brother-in-law, began to suspect a diseased mind in a sound body; for, with the exception of this nervous crisis, his health was in no way altered — his mind alone was affected.

      "'The Divinity,' said the pastor to him, 'may manifest himself to us in various ways; his miracles daily present themselves to our eyes. It seldom happens, notwithstanding, that the dead quit their tombs to communicate with living men; but being strongly impressed with this idea, it would be prudent for you to approach the sacraments, and put your affairs in order. We must prevent this matter from making a noise, it might alarm the minds of the people, and give rise to a hundred ridiculous stories.

      "'You should not persist in concealing the circumstance from your wife, who is a woman of great fortitude and austere piety; but let it be kept a secret from your children.'

      "The clergyman, brother-in-law, and physician, took all the precaution which prudence recommended, in imparting all the circumstances to his wife, who, in common with them, attributed it to a diseased mind.

      "The physician, though of the same opinion, as a professional man thought that an imagination so violently excited, might be attended with very serious consequences both to the President's health and reason. He recommended, above all things, a variety of engaging pursuits, and that he should be constantly watched — never allowed to remain alone, or abandoned to his own thoughts.

      "As the appointed hour approached, the President became more pensive and gloomy. But, what was extraordinary, his health did not appear at all affected, which his friends would often remark to him; they even sometimes joked on the infallibility of his prediction. The President was a man of much strength of mind, and having arranged all his affairs, awaited the fatal hour with great apparent calmness.

      "The eve of the predicted day had now arrived; the President never enjoyed better health. His wife and friends began to reckon with confidence on his recovery. But from a feeling of superstitious fear, they not only resolved to change the hour of all the watches and clocks in the house, but they easily obtained permission to make all the clocks within hearing of the President's hotel strike twelve at the hour of eleven. The family gave on that day a grand supper, to which all their intimate friends, the clergyman, and the physician, were invited. M. d'Albi was distressingly agitated; every moment he looked at the clock. They laughed at him, and endeavoured to make him, as well as the guests, merry by a plentiful outpouring of champagne. The pastor himself wore an air of extraordinary good humour to encourage him. In fine, the hands of all the clocks and watches indicated 'twelve!'

      "By a singular chance, which no one thought of at that moment, the pendule in the President's chamber had not been advanced. The town clocks having all sounded the hour, the glasses were filled, and every one rose to drink the President's health. He joined in this compliment with an excellent grace, having quite resumed his serenity. The champagne had inspired him with new life. He sustained with great gaiety the pleasantries which were addressed to him, and even improvised a pretty quatrain upon the interest which he had inspired. This led the company naturally to speak of M. d'Albi's poetical talent, which he had neglected for some years; and the President could not refrain from entertaining his guests with a little poem, which he had composed upon his mental malady, and which they importuned him to favour them with a sight of. M. d'Albi said, that he must go to his dressing-room, as no one else but himself could find it. He took a light, and proceeded towards his apartment. All of a sudden, a pistol-shot was heard. The President's valet-de-chambre had just forced open his master's secretaire, for the purpose of robbing him. Surprised in the act, he seized a pistol which lay at his hand, and blew out his master's brains. Midnight sounded at that instant by the clock in the President's chamber!"

F.