shrine, which was lighted by a single candle, knelt an aged man, and on an old wooden box at his side lay an open book and a human skull.

The man was of large, bony frame; his hair and whiskers were very long and snowy white; he was clothed in a robe of sheepskins which reached from his neck to his heels.

“A holy hermit!” said the King to himself; “now am I indeed fortunate.”

The hermit rose from his knees; the King knocked. A deep voice responded —

“Enter! — but leave sin behind, for the ground whereon thou shalt stand is holy!”

The King entered, and paused. The hermit turned a pair of gleaming, unrestful eyes upon him, and said —