“Yes, gentlemen, there is something strange and peculiar in the chamber to which our friend was shown last night.  There is a picture which possesses a singular and mysterious influence; and with which there is connected a very curious story.  It is a picture to which I attach a value from a variety of circumstances; and though I have often been tempted to destroy it from the odd and uncomfortable sensations it produces in every one that beholds it; yet I have never been able to prevail upon myself to make the sacrifice.  It is a picture I never like to look upon myself; and which is held in awe by all my servants.  I have, therefore, banished it to a room but rarely used; and should have had it covered last night, had not the nature of our conversation, and the whimsical talk about a haunted chamber tempted me to let it remain, by way of experiment, whether a stranger, totally unacquainted with its story, would be affected by it.”

The words of the Baronet had turned every thought into a different channel:  all were anxious to hear the story of the mysterious picture; and for myself, so strongly were my feelings interested, that I forgot to feel piqued at the experiment which my host had made upon my nerves, and joined eagerly in the general entreaty.

As the morning was stormy, and precluded all egress, my host was glad of any means of entertaining his company; so drawing his arm-chair beside the fire, he began—­

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.

Many years since, when I was a young man, and had just left Oxford, I was sent on the grand tour to finish my education.  I believe my parents had tried in vain to inoculate me with wisdom; so they sent me to mingle with society, in hopes I might take it the natural way.  Such, at least, appears to be the reason for which nine-tenths of our youngsters are sent abroad.

In the course of my tour I remained some time at Venice.  The romantic character of the place delighted me; I was very much amused by the air of adventure and intrigue that prevailed in this region of masks and gondolas; and I was exceedingly smitten by a pair of languishing black eyes, that played upon my heart from under an Italian mantle.  So I persuaded myself that I was lingering at Venice to study men and manners.  At least I persuaded my friends so, and that answered all my purpose.  Indeed, I was a little prone to be struck by peculiarities in character and conduct, and my imagination was so full of romantic associations with Italy, that I was always on the lookout for adventure.