in which his nerves unexpectedly betrayed themselves. We truly do not know what is going on within us, and it would not surprise any doctor to be told confidentially by any one that a discovery had been made that the nerves were giving way. Imagination has a great responsibility in these matters. Men of little imagination are not "given to give way." So, if you have to do anything which is trying, and require an assistant or companion, don't take a man endowed with imagination. Look rather for a fool than a clever man. At all events, do not at tempt anything risky with a man who thinks too much.

All these sapient thoughts arise because of Cecil Wake, who, although an excellent fellow, thought too much. Perhaps it was because of this that he had become better than any barometer for telling a change in weather. Snow always gave him headache-thunder always gave him headache; but he bore these afflictions uncomplainingly. But we knew in summer from an extra twitch about his mouth that we should have thundery weather. In winter snow faithfully followed the same signals. We discovered another peculiarity in him, and some of his friends declared that they had found a treasure in him at last, because he had one gift that could be usefully employed for money. He was a marvellous water-finder. For this he employed the timehonoured instrument, the hazel fork. He held the two ends of the hazel between his thumb and forefinger, the fork turned downwards, and whenever he came anywhere near running water the fork end of the hazel rose in the air; and the stick not only did this, but twisted and turned in his hand as though in an agony. It made

his arms ache, he said, and he described the sensation as especially unpleasant along the nerves and muscles of the forearms. In an African desert he would have been invaluable; and we often told him that one of the African companies should give him a salary and employ him to find water in dry places. When he walked with us, often and often he has told us that water ran somewhere far down under his feet. We believed him or disbelieved him as we liked, for it was only when we knew that a stream was close at hand that we could test him. He had also a sensation when placed near certain metals. Whether all this arose from magnetism or from some electrical affinities, we were not wise enough to determine. To electricity I ascribed his sensitiveness; others called it by other names. At all events, there it was, a most palpable fact, showing itself with a power so strong that if, for instance, he grasped our wrists, we became aware of a force running into our being; and it lifted hazel - twigs in our hands when he was thus holding us, so that we felt the wood pressing itself against our fingers if we resisted the impulse given to it by him through our bodies.

We

Why should persons formed exactly alike as far as the mere presence of blood, bone, sinew, and nerves is concerned, be so variously affected? If there be such great forces at work, why do they not pervade all sentient flesh? ask many questions, but the true replies are not as yet vouchsafed to us; perhaps they will never be. There will always be creatures whose eyes see, and ears hear, what is unknown to the many. The presence of influences in the world around us will thrill through those who, endowed with ethereal

qualities, feel things which most of us, fashioned with more earthly substance, failed to discern.

Notwithstanding his exquisite susceptibility, Wake was a pleasant companion, and did not take amiss any amusement afforded to his grosser comrades by his peculiarities. He was fond of making excursions on foot through the Swiss highlands; and one companion only was what he asked and generally obtained, for we all liked him, and he was easily pleased. Content with almost anything except constant noise or stormy weather, he would plod along, singing sometimes to himself, and full of interest in all he saw. The only circumstance that made him seem at all unreasonable was in the matter of accommodation at an inn. The hotels were often crowded; but however full they might be, Wake always insisted on having a room to himself. He said he could not sleep with another person snoring in another bed, however remote, in the same room.

This unreasonable apprehension was especially aggravating when I was with him on one of these excursions, for I am an excellent walker, and an excellent sleeper, and feel certain that I never snore. People don't who lie on their side and not on their back, and I know that I never lie on my back; and if ever disagreeable, I am only disagreeable when I am awake. But this assertion had no influence with Cecil Wake. We had arrived late and hungry at an inn, and were shown a room where there were two beds, the one with its back to the side of the room where was the window, and the other placed with its head the other way, and near the door. There was a considerable interval between the beds. Wake told the

landlord he wanted a room to himself, however small. Excellent as Swiss hotels are, they cannot contain more rooms than they do contain, and the landlord said he could not give another unless he gave his own, and that he could not do, for he had a wife and I don't know how many children sleeping there. So there was no help for it, and the landlord retired. I told Wake that I feared there was no avoiding the inconvenience, and that he must allow me a bed, and that I promised not to snore. But although he at first made no demur, and although I had my bag carried up to the room, he presently began to look so unhappy-so ridiculously put out and twitchy-that I, to whom it was a matter of perfect indifference whether I slept in a bed or on a sofa, said that I had made up my mind not to plague him by my presence, and that I would go down and sleep on a couch I had observed in the dining-room of the hotel, which we had passed as we came in before mounting the stairs. He thanked me effusively, and although I thought him rather selfish I shook his hand and wished him pleasant dreams. He said that he would not act thus were it not that he felt that he himself would be an annoyance to me; for unless he slept well, his restlessness would be sufficient to keep us both awake.

tainly take the bed near the window, where I can get fresh air."

I said, "Nonsense, old man ; thunder in the air, and on your nerves, as usual. Nice clean bedwhat's the matter with it?" But as I said this, a draught coming from the door blew out my candle, and made his flicker so that he shaded it with his hand, causing the shadow of the hand to fall on that side of the room where the door and the bed were, and I looked, and while I was speaking the shadow of his fingers above the bed seemed to make them point on the wall at something, and underneath the shadow of them the bed appeared to my fancy to be shining in an odd way. Waves of phosphorescence, like that seen in the sky when it is lit by auroral light, floated over it, and illuminated the white sheets. I hastily lit my candle again at his, and repeating my "goodnight," went out at the door, an odd chilly sensation passing down my back as I did so. I found the couch in the dining-room, lay down on it, put my plaid over my legs, and was soon sound asleep.

During the early hours of morning there must have been a storm which failed to wake me. As it came nearer, however, I became half-conscious, and my thoughts taking pleasant shapes, made me in my dream imagine myself at breakfast with Wake, preparatory to a start for a mountain ramble. I saw before me on the clean tablecloth the low glass jar of the inevitable Swiss honey, and my mouth seemed filled with the excellent bread - and - butter, and I lifted to my lips the cup of café au lait, but a sudden jar made me drop the cup, and with a start I awoke. A loud peal of thunder shook the hotel, and I lay on my back thinking what would happen

were the lightning to strike the house. The position of Wake's room immediately over the diningroom occurred to me. I ran over in my mind the construction of the place, its verandahs, and its many windows under the tall roof which had a great gable. I wondered if there was a lightningconductor, and thought how the chimney was placed, and if the stories of bolts coming down chimneys were true. Pah! what nonsense! Why should I have such ideas? Let me go to sleep again. What did it matter, one thunderstorm or more among the Alps, which were always re-echoing such concerts? Then I looked round me, and I saw the door I had entered by slowly opening, and in another moment Wake's face appeared, then his body followed, clothed in his dressing-gown. "Are you here, D- ?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, here I am, quite comfortable," I replied, thinking lazily that he might have suddenly become uneasy about my accommodation. "Here I am, woke by this beastly thunderstorm. I suppose it woke you?"

He came to me without answering, and by a night-light I had kept burning I saw that he looked much disturbed.

"Never mind me now," I said; "I am all right. What is it that has disturbed you?"

He was silent a moment, and then said in quick whispered tones, "I want you to come with me." "Where to?" I asked.

followed his retreating figure, I asked, "But what is it?"

"Never mind, come-come," he said, and we re-entered the bed

room.

He had a candle burning beside the bed he had occupied, the one near the window. The other bed, next the door, had evidently remained untouched. There was no sign of any pressure on the pillow, nor was there any disturbance of the blankets and sheets. As I passed to the interior of the room I again felt chilly for a moment. We approached the window, which was seamed with the beating rain, Wake faced round and asked me to look at the bed near the door. "Can you see anything there?" he asked.

"Why, no, the bed-what do you mean?" I replied.

"Wait," he said, "for the next flash, and then tell me what you see, keeping your eyes on the bed," he added excitedly, but in a low and, as it appeared to me, fear

struck voice.

We waited, but not for long, for very soon a fierce light beat in again, as the lightning ran down, illumining every corner of the room, and showing the white unruffled bed most distinctly.

"Now and now there!"

Wake exclaimed.

"Well, all is dark, except for your candlelight, which seems weak and yellow enough after that flash," I said loudly; for the thunder had pealed out as soon as the flash disappeared, and rolled on with its reverberations as though the sound would never cease.

"Look at them-you must see that group around him," Cecil said. "No-you don't. Well, wait till the next flash."

"What is it?" I asked; and feeling a little faint, which Í had hardly ever felt before, I sat down

on the bed on which he had reposed. He sat down on it also, seating himself more towards its foot, as I had placed myself next the pillows. His body was thus between me and the other bed. He took my hand, then seeing that I rather shrank from this childlike treatment, he put his hand on my arm, and said, "Hush-do wait, and see again if you see nothing.”

So we watched, the rain making its noise against the window. I whispered, "Do you see anything that you keep on telling me to watch, and looking so oddly always at the corner?"

"Yes, I see them still, but fainter," he replied.

Then came another blinding flame of blue light, and I-I, looking at that empty bed, saw upon it the form of a man, and around him was gathered a group of figures, half-seen, but lighted with the light that had filled the room with the flash, and had gone again

there it was, lingering still on that form in the bed, and lighting up the side of the figures around him. The figure on the bed was that of a dead man, but although the corpse was phosphorescent, under the half-closed lids the eyes gleamed as though their blind orbs were of living fire. The glow coming from him seemed to be the radiance that lighted the sorrowing group that gazed down upon him. As I looked the apparition became fainter and fainter, until the little yellow candle-flame was all that lit the room, and the bed again was empty, and the white sheets lay close up to the pillow next the wall as though nothing had ever been there. I now felt my arm aching where Wake's hand was on it, and I moved it and gently displaced his hand with my disengaged one, and said, "Wake, I thought I saw a group of men

around a body in that bed, but it must be some odd effect of the lightning playing tricks with reflections from that mirror!"

"You think so?" he said, with a sad smile that softened the twitching of the corners of his mouth. 66 Well, if you stay, you may see it again, I see it now." "But I don't, and it's all nonsense," I said desperately, determined not to give in; "but I'll tell you what it is, Cecil, I'll not leave the room. Give us a hand with your own bed. I'll take the feathered cushion thing and a blanket, and lie near you until morning, and that bed may take care of itself. I agree so far with you that I won't sleep in it."

The storm was moving farther away. There were some fainter flashes, but I saw nothing of our strangely lit companions, and after tossing about on the improvised bed on the floor, and seeing Cecil still half- raised on his pillows and gazing still at bed No. 2, I became unconscious of storm, Cecil, or phantoms, and slept till the morning light, and the boot's cheerful "Sechs Uhr" and double knock warned us to prepare for our day's work. Cecil rose, and we went together down to the dining-room, both very silent, and wondering if anything would be asked by host or waiters about our night's rest. We breakfasted, the host came and wished us good morning, and gave information about our route, and spoke of the storm, but of nothing else, and I turned to Cecil after he had gone, saying that I could not explain the night's vision, but thought we must have eaten something that had produced a disagreement in our digestions and an agreement in our symptoms. He was still excited and nervous, and looked as though he had not slept at all.

"We regret to learn that a sad accident took place last Wednesday at gen, the particulars of which have cast a gloom over the place, and have so affected the amiable host of the hoff, that he has shut up his house a full fortnight before the usual end of the season, which has always filled full his hospitable and excellent place of entertainment and healthy lodging. Mr G., an English gentleman, who was travelling alone, was carried into the hotel during a thunderstorm, struck dead by lightning, which damaged also a little part of the house, close to which he was standing under the shelter of a chestnut-tree. The body was placed on a bed, and means were tried to produce sensibility, but without avail. His brother has arrived from England, and the corpse will probably be buried at -gen, his brother thinking that the carriage to England of the gentleman's body is unnecessary, although he has, it is said, a fine estate in that country, and might have English 'home and comfort,' and to expected to have ended his life amid have rested with his ancestors."

I put down the paper.

The place mentioned was that where Cecil Wake had caused me to see what, I still try to think, was an effect of his own imagination! AN ELECTRICIAN.