My first thought was to hasten off to a hatter's, where I purchased a hat, and then called upon a doctor. He was out, so I left my address, leaving word for him to call at my hotel in the Piazza di Spagna on the morrow, at ten in the morning. I then repaired to my hotel and heard that my friend Rustcoin had been inquiring for me, and marvelled much at my absence. I then had a wash and a brush down, changed the bloodstained handkerchief for a clean one, and ordered supper in my room. On the morrow, punctually at ten, the doctor made his appearance. He examined my wound, prescribed me a lotion, and then asked how the accident had occurred. In my youthful simplicity I related my tale from beginning to end, omitting no detail. He looked at me suspiciously, shook his head, and said that the danger was even more than he thought. He had no doubt that besides the wound in my head, I was likewise suffering from sunstroke, which would account for these hallucinations. Could anything be more irritating? After all the trouble I had taken in relating my adventures, even to the merest details--to be looked upon either as a madman or impostor! He admitted that I might possibly have been to explore the catacombs, that I might have had a fall which caused the wound in my head, but as to the apparition of the vestal virgin and her unsightly friends, he would have none of it, admitting that he was deaf upon principle to all tales of the supernatural, because they were impossible. Adding that he was very much surprised to find a young man of education like myself--and moreover an Englishman--still believing in such antiquated superstitions. He took his leave and said he would call the next day. He came and found me quite convalescent, so soon took his departure with a shrug, finding that I still believed in the actuality of my vision. As I was leaving my hotel for a stroll I ran up against Rustcoin, who was about to call upon me. You can imagine, my friends, his wonder on hearing me recount my adventures. There is little more left to relate. I proceeded in company with my friend to several shops to endeavour to sell the ring, but at none of them would they give me back the sum I gave for it, or anything like it, so I resolved upon keeping the ring and paying the monks what I had paid for it, which amounted to the same thing. So if my spirit friends are not by this time in Paradise, it is no fault of mine. * * * * * "Here is the ring, gentlemen," said Mr. Oldstone at the conclusion of his narrative, taking the precious relic from his forefinger and passing it round for inspection. "You will observe it is a most exquisite specimen of Graeco-Roman art of the very best period, and believe me, gentlemen, when I assure you that the wealth of the universe wouldn't purchase it."