Hans' two brothers returned unhurt from battle, and lived with their mother and sisters in the splendid palace that Bertha had raised on the spot where had stood the wizard's castle. King Hans lived to a good old age, and died a good man and wise monarch. * * * * * It would be in vain to describe the enthusiasm that prevailed as Helen concluded her fairy tale. Any story that partook at all of the marvellous was sure to meet with thorough appreciation, whoever might be the teller; but when the sunny dreams of fairyland were shaped into words by lips so rosy as those of our host's daughter, Methuselah himself might have felt his blood boil in his veins. All the old fogies of the club felt their youth suddenly restored to them, and it was all they could do to keep themselves from falling prostrate at the feet of the fair story-teller. As for our artist, he had lost his heart long ago. Here was a pretty to do! As for Helen, I'm afraid that she had caught the complaint. What was to be done? Well, never mind at present; perhaps the dart may not have struck very deep. But here comes our host, who, roused by the boisterous cheering of the guests, has come to call away his daughter to her meal. And high time, too, unless he wishes all their heads to be turned by this bewitching enchantress. The eulogiums on Helen's beauty, manners, and powers for story-telling lasted until dinner time, and such an impression had her story and manner of telling it made upon all, that no one felt inclined either to relate or listen to another, and the club actually retired to rest that evening without a story. CHAPTER VIII. THE HAUNTED STAGE BOX.--THE TRAGEDIAN'S STORY. The following morning was bright, clear, and frosty. At an early hour two of our guests were to leave the "Headless Lady" by the mail for London. These two were Captain Toughyarn and our comic friend, Mr. Jollytoast. Each had urgent business on hand, and the other members of the club had risen to see them off. Breakfast had been laid for these two worthies; their companions seated themselves at the same table, and chatted with them whilst waiting for the stage-coach. "Well, captain," said Mr. Oldstone, "after you return from your next voyage, you'll visit us again and have another dream over our punch like that last one of yours, won't you?" "Ay, ay, messmate," replied the captain; "you may be sure of that. That is to say, if we are all still in the land of the living. I'd come, even if I had no other inducement than the bright eyes of our host's pretty daughter." "Avast there! captain," said Mr. Jollytoast. "Remember the mermaid! Think of Lurline! Take care, lest Helen should prove even more dangerous."