On the following day, Vincenzio di Guadagnaro caused to be constructed a vast funeral pile. There were heaped upon it, by his command, his magnificent chess-tables, set out with their pieces, as well as all the works and manuscripts that treated of the game. Vincenzio himself set fire to it, and the whole was reduced to ashes. The gallery of Chess was deserted; and as for the masters and distinguished amateurs of this noble game, Vincenzio gave them their dismissal, loaded with magnificent presents, and they returned to their homes, their hearts overpowered with grief.

A short time after, the most illustrious personages of Venice were invited to a splendid banquet at the Buondelmonte palace. In a speech prepared beforehand, and full of courteous and friendly expressions, our hero declared solemnly to them, that if any one should hereafter propose to him a game of Chess, the proposition, from whomsoever it might come, would be regarded by him as a challenge to mortal combat, which should be despatched on the spot. And as all the friends of Vincenzio knew that he was the man to keep his word, they received it as a settled thing, and contented themselves thenceforth to play without him at the noble game of Chess.

CHAPTER IV.

It was near at hand, the hour that was to place Astaroth for the last time face to face with Vincenzio. If he loses this last game, never again a hope for him! He will be reduced to pass on the earth the rest of those miserable hundred years promised him, gnashing his teeth like a criminal struck by a sentence of death; for since the last appearance of Astaroth, nine years and nine months had already expired. Let us see how Vincenzio had passed that period.

In exterior, little change was to be observed in his person; only the curls of his hair had whitened, and his brow was furrowed with innumerable wrinkles.

From success to success, Vincenzio had reached the summit of dignity and renown. He it was, that fathers cited to their children as a model to follow. The name of the noble Guadagnaro was placed side by side with those of an Aristides or a Pericles. In his judicial robe, as in one of his magnificent palaces at Venice, he was resplendent with power and glory. The ducal crown graced his brow, but that accursed brand was still around his neck. Horrible necklace!

A sentiment of terror and despair had proceeded the last visit of Astaroth. Often did Vincenzio hover like a shade, about the tombs, and at times would he exclaim: "Why am I not icy cold like these dead that repose beneath these stones!" Did he make an excur

waves.

sion on the Adriatic, he cursed his vessel that it floated upon the He knew, however, the wretched man, that were he sunk to the bottom of the sea he could not have died! The elements had no power over him,—was he not damned? Profound was the wound that despair and a cruel agony had made in his heart. The powerful Vincenzio resembled a ghost escaped from the tomb. The miserable man was a prey to the most dreadful tortures!

However, a sudden change took place in Vincenzio. That violent despair was suddenly succeeded by a gloomy dejection and a stoic insensibility. He seemed to await with the most disdainful indifference, the coming of his infernal guest. Oh, what a type was that man, of the human race!

It was the festival of St. Mark, and the waves of the Adriatic were ploughed by a thousand gondolas. Nobles and beggars, in the most picturesque costumes, jostled each other in the crowd. The sky was clear and of a deep blue, the sea smooth and tranquil, and the air balmy. In the midst of the crowd that filled the square of St. Mark, might be distinguished our hero, who attracted all eyes. He was magnificently attired, but his sadness contrasted strangely with the gaiety of that festival.

The crowd swelled, moved to and fro, and like the waves of the sea, ended by being thrown into a tumult. A poor old monk, iu seeking to retire from this scene of confusion, was on the point of being inevitably thrown down and trampled under foot, but for the succor of the arm of Vincenzio, who kept the crowd at a distance, and sustaining the steps of the aged man, conducted him to another little retired spot of safety.

"May God bless thee, my son!" said the old monk. These words pierced the heart of Vincenzio. He shuddered.

"Mockery!" murmured he; "no more blessing for me! Never, never!" Then suppressing his emotions, which under the sway of a deep impression, were ready to burst forth, he answered the monk-"Thanks, good father! The blessing of the virtuous mau is like water to the parched flower!"

"Well spoken, my son," replied the monk, who was evidently a stranger in Venice. "The prayers and blessings of the good man are indeed of great price! Religion can alone heal the wound

which has resisted all the art of the leech."

"Monk! What mean you? Do you know me?"

"No, I know thee not, man that needest succor! For fifty years have I lived among the Saracens, seeking to win souls to God, and I am unknown here. How many strange things have I not beheld in the course of my life!"

"Have you ever encountered Satan in person, good father?" My son," said the monk, "let us not jest on such a subject!

66

You will not perhaps believe me, but often have I found myself in his presence, and, with the grace and aid of God, have I vanquished him under all his disguises. More than once have I seen him flee before me, under the form of man!"

And the monk muttered a prayer, and crossed himself, with his eyes raised towards Heaven, while the wind played amidst the long floating locks of his silvery hair.

A sudden thought struck Vincenzio, as he gazed upon the old monk standing before him. He quickly seized his arm, and conducted him to an isolated apartment of his palace, and there rerelated to him his wretched history.

Some minutes had elapsed, and Vincenzio was pressing the monk to his bosom, exclaiming with a loud voice and joyous tone, “I am saved!"

Vincenzio is saved-how? That is what you shall soon learn. His soul is henceforth lightened of its heavy burthen, and all within him is joy and happiness. Satisfied as to the discretion of the monk, Vincenzio said to himself:

"There was nothing wanting to my happiness but to be able to baffle the demon, and now, thank God, I have the means for that. He has given me a severe lesson, to-morrow I will take my revenge."

On the following day, the last of the appointed period, Astaroth presented himself, and great was his astonishment at the courteous reception that he met with from our Venetian. Far from trembling in the presence of his infernal guest, Vincenzio bids him cordially welcome, and even says that the time had seemed very long since he last had the pleasure of seeing him.

"Never fear," replied Astaroth; "the day will soon come when we shall part no more."

Vincenzio had the table and box of chessmen brought, which were all ready beforehand, and ranged his pawns in order of battle. Astaroth was amazed at his composure.

"One justice I must indeed," said he, "render you, Vincenzio— that for firmness of resolution, urbanity of manners, and courage to sustain any trial, it is impossible to meet your equal. I have waited patiently; your caprices have given me a great deal of trouble, but, candidly, I cannot remember them with the slightest regret."

"Come, come, you flatter me, Astaroth! My dear friend, yours the first move, if you please!"-and the game commenced.

"We so rarely meet," said Vincenzio after a moment's silence, "that I seize this opportunity to request some information from you-(Check!)-relative to a mystery which I should greatly like to penetrate. You know that science has always been my idol;

it is respecting the power that you possess of reading the thoughts

of man?"

"On such terms as we are now, Vincenzio, I cannot so well read your thoughts as I could in any other situation. It is enough that there be any compact between me and a man, to place that man, during the entire period of our agreement, beyond the reach of the power that I exercise over those who are less under my immediate control."

"You mean to say, for instance,” replied Vincenzio, “that you cannot in any respect do me any personal injury?"

"Why such a question?"

"Oh," said Vincenzio, laughing, "the fact is, I intend to give you checkmate presently, and I wished to know if I could do it with impunity-that's all. I am not very fond of quarrels, and have no desire to do the least thing to annoy you, my excellent friend."

"A truce with this jesting. "Tis ridiculous," said Astaroth. "A bargain is a bargain, and I could not break it any more than yourself. Whether you win or lose, you will still not the less live the number of years agreed upon, and nothing will be able to diminish your happiness on this earth. But to checkmate me—that's a good joke!"

These words called forth a disdainful smile from Vincenzio, who began to look with contempt upon the imprudent Astaroth for allowing himself to be duped by him.

Meanwhile the game proceeded, following the same direction as the preceding. Our Venetian smiled as he remarked how impotent was the science of the most skilful human chess-player, in comparison with the art of a devil, and the cunning of the inhabitants of hell. "All my combinations," thought Vincenzio, "turn to his advantage; and were he to give me a castle, as he well could, I still should lose,-but all for nothing, poor devil!" The follow ing was the position of the players; Astaroth had, as usual, the Whites, and it was his turn to play :

WHITE-King at his second square; Rook at Queen's Bishop's square; Knight at Queen's Bishop's fifth; Pawn's at Queen's third-King's fifth-and King's Bishop's fourth.

BLACK-King at Queen's fourth square; Rooks at Queen's Bishop's square, and King's Bishop's square; Bishop at King's Knight's third; Pawns at Queen's Bishop's third-Queen's fifth-King's third-and King's Bishop's second.

It is easy to see that Vincenzio had the advantage of a castle; but, according to the common saying, the position, in Chess, is worth more than the number of pieces.

The game was at that point when Astaroth suddenly exclaimed: "Very well! In four moves you are checkmate." And the demon played the first of the four moves.

Vincenzio examined the position attentively, and saw that in fact, in the number of moves indicated, the checkmate was inevitable; but at the same time he could not refrain from admiring the eminent talent of his adversary, who, by a series of admirable moves, had thus forced and surrounded him on all sides. The heart of the Venetian beat high in his breast, and a slight paleness passed over his face. The impression that he experienced was delicious, and never had vengeance appeared so sweet to mortal. He remained with his eyes fixed calmly on the chessboard.

"You see that I am not mistaken," said Astaroth.

play!"

"Come,

"Are you then in such a hurry, my good friend?" replied Vincenzio.

"Obey without reply. It is of no consequence how you play, but play at once; come, now!"

"My excellent friend," answered Vincenzio, "my good protector! man or demon, whatever you may be, moderate your impatience. I am but an humble and poor mortal-deign to listen to me. I believe we are playing according to the strict rules of the game. Now, according to those rules, I can take all the time necessary to make my combinations. Ah! I entreat you, do not be so uneasy on your chair; you shall speak when I have done. The move is a difficult one, that is all. You claim to be able to checkmate me so much the better, if you are able. I have lost the preceding games by playing too fast, a common fault of beginners, but I will not again fall into the same error. The position demands a serious attention. I will reflect, so long as I shall not have discovered the correct move to enable me to avoid my ruin. Till then, I shall not play. I intend to wait several hours before deciding. So you are at liberty to retire and return to morrow; then only shall I be able to tell you what I mean to play; or, if you prefer to finish the game by correspondence, I can inform you by mail of the move on which I shall have decided. In the meantime, I wish you every species of happiness. Pray excuse me; I sup with some friends, as I have mentioned, and am in despair that it is not in my power to invite you to accompany me."

As he concluded these words, Vincenzio rose, and politely saluting his infernal guest, motioned him to the door.

Astaroth could not articulate a word. He was, as they say, caught in a trap. He found himself fairly floored by the impudence of this man. But at length his fury burst forth.

"What do you mean to say?" he cried, entirely beyond himself. "Are you an infamous scoundrel, or have you lost your senses? Come, play at once, or else

"Ah! ah! ah! ah!" said Vincenzio, laughing. "No threats, I beg. Have you not acknowledged that you possess no power