"Yes, madame. I went there once--just once--to look at that fatal chamber, and the bed where my poor mistress died. When the place was let, those apartments were locked up; but"--and she shook her head mournfully--"the tenants were glad to leave it." "And for what purpose does M. le Curé go there so often?" I asked. "To pray for the souls of the unfortunates!" said the old woman, devoutly crossing herself. Deeply affected with her story, I took leave of this sole surviving witness of these long-buried sorrows; and I, too, accompanied by the curé, once more visited the awful chamber. "Ah, madame!" said he, "poor human nature! with its passions, and its follies, and its mad revenges! Is it not sad to think that so much love should prove the foundation of so much woe?" VISIT TO AN ENCAMPMENT OF LAPLANDERS. BY WILLIAM HURTON. Of all the wonders of distant climes of which we read in childhood, perhaps none make a stronger impression on our imaginations than such objects as exist beyond the mystic Arctic Circle. The pictorial representations of the Midnight Sun, the North Cape, the Aurora Borealis, the Laplanders and their reindeer, which all of us have gloated over in our dreaming youthful days, sink indelibly into our memory. While I sojourned on the Island of Tromsö, learning that on the neighboring mainland some Laplanders were encamped, I resolved to pay them a visit. Procuring a boat, I rowed over to the opposite shore (on the 17th July, 1850), where I met with a Nordlander, who informed me that the Lap encampment might be found somewhere toward the extremity of Trömsdal--a magnificent ravine commencing at no great distance from the shore, and running directly inland. He stated that the Laps had a noble herd of _reins_ (the name universally given to reindeer), about eight hundred in number, and that, when the wind blew from a certain quarter, the whole herd would occasionally wander close to his house, but a _rein-hund_ (reindeer-dog) was kept by him to drive them back.