The legend, which was after long inquiry recovered by my collector, distinctly describes the _reconstruction_ of the cross, and as certainly sets forth a _mysterium magnum_ with an apparition of the Virgin on this very spot, which would have assuredly caused a pillar, if not a church, to be erected in the thirteenth century. The story of this mystery is as follows: LA CROCE AL TREBEIO. “Where the _Croce al Trebbio_ now stands, was in very old times a great palace occupied by one of the most ancient families of Florence. And when it died out, there came into the house three families, but none could remain there, being so terrified with fearful sounds and an apparition. “It was the custom in those days in Florence to ring a bell at ten o’clock at night, which was a signal for every citizen to go home at once; therefore, after that hour no one was seen in the streets except police guards, military patrols, and riotous young men, whom the former aimed at arresting. It often happened that such irregular folk took refuge in the old palazzo, but if they remained there one night, they had enough of it, and never returned, so great was the horror which they were sure to feel. “The first occurrence which gave the place a bad name was as follows: Some time after the death of the last of the old line of Signori who had occupied the palace, and the three families spoken of had come into it, on the first night at midnight they heard some one put a key in the house-door, open the same with great noise, and come storming and swearing up the stairs into the great dining-hall. Then there entered a tall and magnificently dressed gentleman, of very handsome and distinguished appearance, but his face was deadly pale, his eyes had a terrible gleam, and it seemed as if a light bluish flame flickered and crept about him, ever rising and vanishing like small serpents. “And entering, he began to scold and blaspheme in a diabolical manner, as if at servants whom he was accustomed to have promptly at his call, saying, ‘_Birbanti di servitori_—you scoundrelly waiters—you have not got supper ready for me, nor laid the tables.’ Saying this, he seized on plates and glasses, and dashing them down violently, broke them in mad rage. Then he entered the best bedroom in the house, where some one lay asleep, and this man he maltreated and hurled forth, saying that the bed was his own. “And if after that any one dared to sleep in the old palazzo, he was found there dead in the morning, or else lived but a few days. So it came to pass that no one would inhabit it; nay, all the houses round about began to be deserted, and the whole neighbourhood regarded it as a pest. And from all this they were relieved by a marvellously strange occurrence and a great miracle.