THE MYSTERIOUS INVALID.

"True; and, therefore, I will take this old friend with me. But remember there is a Pro

BY MYRRHA.

The scene of the present story lies in one of the principal towns of Southern Germany, and the events which we are about to narrate might have occurred some century or more ago.

Late one evening in autumn the aged, pious, and far-famed surgeon, Master Helfrad, and his wife, Gertrude, sat around their stove conversing. The good old man had been reading aloud some portions of the sacred scriptures, as was his daily custom, and their hearts were filled with holy joy and gratitude as they reminded each other of the gracious promises contained in that blessed book, or looked back on the numerous mercies which had been vouchsafed to them. Then they spoke of their son, their only child, now studying painting in Italy; and dwelt, with all a parent's fond pride, on the accounts which occasionally reached them of his brilliant talent; and drew glad, happy pictures of the future, when his love should once more be manifested to them in a thousand little acts of affection, and his fame and virtues gild the declining years of life.

The cathedral clock had already struck ten, and the lights were extinguished in most of the neighbouring houses; but Helfrad still sat in his highbacked carved oaken chair, his hand resting on the parchment-covered silver-ciasped bible, and the lamp-light falling on his calm, benevolent features, his high and but slightly wrinkled brow, and his snowy hair-which fell in the luxuriance almost of youth around his temples, and on his starched white collar, looking like threads of silver-and contrasting itself with the small black velvet cap which covered the top of his head. Gertrude forgot to turn her busy spinning-wheel while listening to her husband, and now and then put in her word. The clock struck again, it was the half hour. "Aye, aye! is it so late! This is not right. Man's eyes should open with the rising sun, and close when it sets, or soon after."

"But, father,” replied the wife, "ours have remained open in order to gaze on the sun of virtue; that sun whose beams shall guide us to eternity."

"Yes, yes, and to talk of our own dear son, wifey," said the old man, smiling, as he arose from his seat and began to take off those logs which still continued to burn, and rake the ashes out. While he was thus employed, a loud hammering was heard at the outer door. Helfrad hastened to the window, and shouted, "Coming directly."

"How fortunate that I should have sat up this night," he said, while lighting his lanthorn;" for if the patient is dangerously ill, the quarter of an hour thus saved may be of vital importance."

"Would it not be better to call up one of the servants?" observed Gertrude, with all a woman's fears. "Who knows what sort of person is at the door? The nights are not so safe."

He girded on his sword, put a case of medicines in his pocket, assumed his fur pelisse and cap, and, taking up his lanthorn, quitted the room. Gertrude followed him with the intent of closing the door after him, and also to see who this noisy and impatient visitor was. The cold autumnal blast rushed in as the door opened, and a form sprang forward out of the dark night, at the sight of which Gertrude flew up the stairs again with a loud cry. A Moor stood there, wearing on his head a strangely shaped yellow turban, and clad in an outlandish garb of crimson and yellow. The old man involuntarily made the sign of a cross, and then said, "In God's name, speak! What will you? Whence do you come?"

me,

"Gertrude, close the door; do not sit up for or leave any fire: I have the key. Nay, my good wife," he added, as he looked in her anxious countenance, "fear nothing. The path of duty never leads to danger! Good night. And now, sir stranger, lead on, and quickly."

at first, and the good Helfrad almost shuddered as The man obeyed; he darted forward eagerly he saw that tall form flitting before him, now dim and indistinct, now looking like a pillar of flame, as the light of one of the few and far between lamps, which illumine the streets of a German town, fell upon him. Presently he slackened his pace, saying, in a manly and pleasing voice, "This rate of walking must be too rapid for you, sir." "Fear not, my son," replied Helfrad; "I am active and light, and can walk with any one." "Is it so?" exclaimed the Moor, bursting into loud laughter. "Let us see, then, which reaches the hotel first. What do you bet I do not beat you? Come, start fair, old fellow." "Shame on you," said Helfrad; do you suppose such freaks as these would become a surgeon, and a man of my age?"

"

"But you would get there all the sooner, and be the sooner able to afford my master the benefit of your skill. What do you say; is it a wager?" and again his laughter rang through the quiet streets.

"Be silent, man," said Helfrad; and the Moor fell back behind him, nor spoke again.

They reached the hotel; all the lights were still burning, and persons moving to and fro, so that Helfrad would have thought some feast was held there, had he not seen the pallid hue of fear on every countenance, and as he passed the private room, beheld the landlord's family on their knees in silent prayer.

"Does the sick stranger yet live?" he asked of one of the waiters.

"Yes. His room is up those stairs, and at the

end of the gallery on the left. You cannot mistake it, for his oaths, his exclamations, and blasphemous expressions make our hair stand on end."

The Moor was up the steps with three springs, and flew along the passage. Helfrad followed him more slowly, for already the awful tones of the sick man fell on his ear; his heart arose in silent prayer to heaven, and he crossed himself as he stepped over the threshold. A brilliant light dazzled him as he entered the room; it proceeded from numerous waxen tapers, placed in every part of the chamber where it was possible that the slightest shadow could fall. On a couch nearly opposite the door lay a man attired in gorgeous apparel, writhing in all the agonies of excruciating pain. Helfrad could scarcely at first persuade himself that it was a human being; but he soon perceived that the hideously deformed features which met his sight were those of a mask.

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Approach, doctor, I pray you; and aid my poor master," said the Moor.

"Sir, I must request you to remove that mask," said Helfrad, drawing near his patient.

The sick man shook his head, but made no reply; "Does not your master understand me?" asked Helfrad of the Moor.

"Yes, yes-but cross him not. You heard his voice, surely, as you ascended the stairs; awake not again that tempest of the soul."

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"The countenance of the patient is the surgeon's most valuable index," pursued Helfrad. It is therefore, sir, that I pray you lay aside that mask."

"He who looks on me becomes insane!" was the reply that echoed in hollow tones from the sick man's lips; while the Moor exclaimed, with earnest entreaty in both voice and gesture, "Oh, I implore you, urge him not; I know, I feel that those features must be fearful to behold, although I have never yet looked upon them."

Helfrad yielded; he felt the pulse, marked each symptom, and formed his opinion accordingly; while two gleaming eyes glared forth from the mask, and watched his every motion. Satisfied as to the nature of the disease, he opened his medicine chest, and selected such drugs as he deemed the case required. Suddenly a strange, whirring sound was heard in the air, as of many busy wings, and a buzzing, as of the whispering of many voices; the sick man tossed convulsively on his couch, and presently his voice broke forth in curses and blasphemies, uttered in every tongue; and such yells as might have done honour to a fiend. The Moor supported his master in his arms, now endeavouring with low muttered words to calm him, now stamping madly on the floor, and shaking his fist as if at some invisible beings, now joining in the fearful volleys of imprecations. Helfrad stood at a table at some little distance, we will not say unmoved by what was passing around him, but he trusted in One who will never forsake those who humbly put their faith in Him; so the old man continued to prepare his medicines, and chaunted in a subdued, yet audible voice, the following words:

"The trials and vanities of life, My wild passion's fiery strife, Lord give me strength to overcome! And as I tread this vale of tears,

One thought can ever lull my fears, It leads to thee!-to heaven!-to home!"

Thus, when wintry winds howl in fierce whirlwinds over the earth, do we often see the gentle moon look forth from amid the dark masses of clouds, and shed her mild beams around. Presently Helfrad drew near his patient with the medicines, and thus addressed him-"Control this wild passion, sir stranger, or my endeavours will avail you but little. God helps not those who seek not to help themselves."

The sick man made an impatient gesture, but, taking the draught, swallowed it, and offered no opposition to being rubbed with a potent ointment. Gradually the convulsed limbs became still, the pain appeared to diminish; Helfrad, however, desisted not from his exertions, and every now and his lips; for, even to his well-regulated mind, then some scriptural sentence involuntarily escaped

that mighty and nervous form-in the glare of those there was something fearful in the prostration of eyes, which shone out like living coals from beneath the hideous mask-in the unearthly sounds which, although dying away, were still audible-and in the glaring costume of the Moor, as he flitted to

and fro.

"Cease those mutterings, old man-they fret me. I sent for you to heal my body-my soul is already cared for; it is beyond your power."

"And in the hands of Him who alone can save it alive, I trust," was the reply.

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Come, Negromante, cannot you rid me of this folly by ridiculing the wise saws of this sanctimonious old man?" said the stranger, addressing his attendant. But the Moor looked down in silence and irresolution. "How! do you hesitate to do my bidding? Do you pause when I command? Fool! coward! Obey me instantly, or " The man clasped his hands with an imploring gesture, and mastering his better feelings, assailed the good surgeon with mock and gibe, and ridiculed his piety, his words-nay, even the scriptures themselves; and the hollow voice of the sick man urged him on or joined in. For some time Helfrad heard them in patience, nor ceased from his duties; but presently drawing up his venerable form to its full height, he exclaimed, "Man, pause in thy impious discourse, and reflect where thou wouldst be three hours hence if I abandoned you!"

"But you will not leave me to die because I have uttered a few jesting words-such practice would ill bear out the theory, the precepts you profess," sneered the stranger.

"Mark me!" replied he. "Jest on; here I stand as your butt; and my wrinkled brow, my aged form, my snowy beard, my grey head, will surely afford you matter enough for mock and scoff; but, if you or your attendant dare utter one syllable in ridicule of religion, or its sublime truths, that moment I leave you to your fate, nor shall all the gold of the Indies bribe me to return."

The sick man replied not, and the Moor gazed reverentially on the old man for a few moments, and then turned hastily away. A deep sleep shortly fell on the stranger, and Helfrad, having given the necessary instructions to Negromante, who received them in humble silence, quitted the house.

"I know not what this noise may portend," said Helfrad, advancing to the sick man's side, "but it is evident that you excite yourself in vain; it will not cease at your bidding."

As if in confirmation of his words, the sounds immediately became more audible, and resembled the suppressed mocking laughter of many voices. "You will do well not to interfere in that which does not concern you, old man," said the stranger, in a low voice; but Helfrad crossed himself, and uttered fearlessly and distinctly, "Ye invisible beings, be still; at least so long as an honest and God-fearing man is in this chamber. I command you in the name of the Almighty."

In an instant all was silent as death, and Helfrad said, with a calm smile, " You see the spell to lay such spirits is simple."

"You know them then?-you, too, have had to do with them!" said the stranger.

"Now, may heaven forefend! But this I know, that those who walk in God's way, and do his will with their whole heart, have only to speak in his name, and all that is evil will flee from them."

"Can it be that the path is so near, so plain, so safe?" murmured the stranger. "And can this man in his simplicity, his homeliness, do more than?" He paused, turned himself peevishly to the wall, as if he would sleep, and spoke no

more.

In the evening he returned again. Negromante was reading aloud. The few sentences which fell on Helfrad's ear told him the dangerous nature of the work, and he peremptorily ordered it to be closed. With his own hands he flung from the window some extraordinary looking vessels and instruments which were placed on a tripod in the centre of the room. The stranger called to him in tones of anger to desist, and already he had raised himself on his arm, his eyes flashed fire, and his tongue began to curse; but the sound died away incomplete as the mild yet lofty gaze of the old man met his, and he impressively uttered, "Beware! blaspheme not your Creator in my presence!" The sick man flung himself back on his couch, and Negromante stood in silent awe.

On his next visit Helfrad found the Moor seated in the ante-room, drawing; he leaned over his shoulder, and found that he was copying the figure of St. George, which was carved on the front of a portico facing the window.

"Do not speak of my employment to him when he awakes," said Negromante, pointing to his master's door.

"Why not, my son? it is an innocent and

contents. Helfrad sat down and turned over the beautiful sketches with great delight. "My son, too, is an artist," he said. "Did you ever meet with a young German named Freimund ?"

"Freimund! to be sure; I knew him well in Italy. He was the favourite of all ranks; his talents procured him an entrée into the noblest houses, and the most celebrated masters of Florence, Venice, and Rome, sought his acquaintance."

A glow of affectionate pride lit up the old man's countenance, as he listened to this eulogium. "May all this not render him forgetful of his duties!" he murmured; and then added aloud, as he arose-"Thanks, good Negromante, you have gladdened the heart of a father; now listen to me. You serve a strange being, a man of wild wishes and passions; but let him not lead you to ruin. Give to St. George his own good sword, nor fear to trace that holy symbol, which cannot work you harm, though yon heathenish thing might do so." He passed into the sick man's chamber, and prescribed for him; and as he again quitted it, Negromante begged his acceptance of his work. Helfrad glanced at it, and seeing that his wishes had been complied with, grasped his hand with warmth, and uttering a few words of thanks, took his leave.

Gertrude, who heard from all quarters of the strange, wild patient which her husband had under his care, and who saw him, day after day, seeking out drugs, pouring over old works, and bending his whole soul to the task of healing him, asked one day how it happened that he took so much pains for so godless a person.

"Wife," he replied, "the stranger is ill, and has placed himself under my care; my duty is to use every means within my power to save him. My ultimate success or failure lies in the hands of his Maker, who alone has a right to judge him.”

Gertrude coloured beneath the gentle reproach, and putting on her mantle, accompanied her husband, who was going out to seek some peculiar herb which he required.

Why not buy the drug at the apothecary's," said she, "instead of thus tiring yourself with stooping and poking about for it on the ground?”

"Because I require it in all its freshness and power. That which I could purchase may have been gathered years and years, it may not even be the thing I need." He then related to her all that he had heard respecting their son, adding" Pray heaven that all this make him not vain, lead him not to forget his old parents, his country, and his religion!"

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"He will not do either," exclaimed Gertrude. My own dear Freimund the child of my love, will be all our hearts could wish him. But let us