"'On the evening of the 24th of January, after prayers by the priests, and the lamps being extinguished, the ghost rapped once and came in. As the wench again sat on the same chest between the priests, the curate of Laagkh felt his hair tugged, and he rose up. Ankha at the same time exclaimed, "Oh dear! oh dear! whose cold hand is that?" The priest, who was sitting near, said, "Don't be afraid, the hand is mine;" but this was not true. He wished to do away with her fright, and with the impression caused by the touch. "'On the 25th of January, when all the required Masses had been said at the altar of Saint Anthony of Jagnenz, the Lord of Weixelstein and the priests engaged in the ceremony returned to pass the night at the castle, and to receive the thanksgiving of the Saved Soul. While they were supping the housemaid, carrying the children's food, was crossing the hall to the dining-room, when the ghost seized her arm. She started back, and saw behind her the form of a woman robed in white. As the family were retiring to rest, the lord of the castle ordered two of his dependents, Christop Wollf and Mathew Wreschek, to pass the night with the servant-wenches in the haunted room. As the lamps were put out the ghost entered and struck a loud rap upon the table, and said, "Ankha, now I am saved, and I am going to heaven." The wench rejoined, "O blessed soul, pray to Heaven for me, for the noble master, the noble mistress, and all the noble family, and for all those who helped thee to (attain) thine eternal salvation," whereto the ghost answered, "Amen, amen, amen." It then went towards Ankha, and privily told her the promised secret, strictly forbidding her to divulge it. "'Finally, it should be noted that before all these events Ankha had confessed and communicated.' "Trieste, September 8, 1879." The walks in the woods were delightful, and when the picture was sufficiently advanced we went to Trieste to meet Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Evans. We also went with a large party to meet the Prince of Montenegro, who arrived at Trieste, who was one of the handsomest men I ever saw, of the dark mountaineer type. This September we had a great blow. Our favourite Governor, Baron Pino, was transferred to Linz, and he and his wife were so very popular that the whole town was in mental mourning. We all went to see them off, and it was a very heart-breaking scene. We all cried. I have seen such departures three times. One was for the Spanish Consuless Madame Zamitt, a lovely and popular woman, who a year or two later died of cancer in the tongue, and the third was my own departure (though I say it who should not), on the 27th of January, 1891. Richard went for a little trip on the 29th of September to Fiume, and afterwards we went to Albona.