“No, between death and myself a gulf has been fixed by my Master, and though corporeal pain may for seven times seven hours rack and torture me, I am at the end of that period whole again, even though I were wounded ten times fatally. “I am the deathless one!” At the aspect and demeanour of my weird companion I could have shrieked with fear; his eyes were incandescent in their blazing lustre, and the locks of his beard and hair writhed to my astonished eyes like the living locks of a Gorgon. “The stories I told you of past centuries were no mere tales gathered from books, but were from my own personal observations. “I stood in Rome when it was in flames; I saw with these very eyes the martyrdom of the early Christians; I walked through the length and breadth of Europe while Rome, with all its power and glories, was passing away. At Hastings I stood beside brave Harold, when a short arrow, taking him in the eye, pierced brain and skull, and he fell dead beside me. I have seen the Saracens fall like mast in the autumn before the trained arms of the bold Crusaders; and when Napoleon’s army fled from Moscow I too followed them. “I have felt the fierce rays of the Eastern sun and the biting winds and frost of dreary Lapland. “I have courted dangers and death in all forms, but here, after centuries, I stand before you a living mortal covered with the cloak of immortality.” “Heaven help you, poor man!” I cried; “you must be distraught; mayhap much learning has weakened your brain. Rest, good father, I implore you. Rest on this couch, you will be better soon.” “Rest, rest!!” he wildly exclaimed, “there is no rest for me, nay, not even in the peaceful grave. Often and often have I stood in Death’s path, and have felt the icy coldness of his breath, but, alas! he has ever passed me by unheeded.” “Surely,” said I, “you do not tell me that you are he who is doomed to walk this rolling earth till the Master bids thy penance be no more?” “Ay,” he replied, “I am he--he whom men, without knowing my true name, call ‘The Wandering Jew’!” I could scarcely believe my senses. Was the man mad? or was I mad? or was it all a phantasy of my brain? My guest held out his hand to me, which I mechanically clutched; then drawing me to the couch, we sat down together. “Forgive me, my young friend, for the shock I have caused you. Your kindness has touched my heart, and for that kindness I will repay you, as in times past I have occasionally rewarded others of my true friends.