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FRANCESCA CARRARA.


There is something very catching in fear; and as they passed through gloomy passages, whose only tapestry was the spider's web, and whose boards creaked at every step, while their lantern threw around fantastic shadows, and scarcely light enough to enable them to find their way, Lucy clung to her companion’s arm, and with difficulty suppressed the scream which some sudden darkness or unusual noise forced to her lips. Even Francesca felt her heart die within her, so contagious was Lucy's terror. And, truly, strong nerves are required to steal at midnight through a lonely suite of rooms, haunted by vague imaginings, and all the terrible superstitions and records accumulated on the past. Connected with the dark and narrow rooms, the cells of former days, through which they had to find their way, was one of those ghastly legends belonging to far-off time—they are too horrible to be believed of the present.

There are some human beings who seemed marked out for misfortune—an evil influence attends them till laid in that early grave to which it has hastened their progress; and such a history was remembered of the luckless nun, whose first forced and then broken vows were awfully punished by a living sepulchre. It was a story to be told on a