It was the 18th of April, 1587, and it seems to me as but yesterday.

To the intuitive, seeing spirit, time and space disappear; eternity and immortality are to it omnipresent." Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared not to know where he wandered, and turned unintentionally to the retired, lonely places in the park.

His companion heeded not the way either, occupied with the strange account of the Italian.

A dreadful feeling of awe and horror took possession of his soul, and, with devoted respect, he hung upon the words which fell from the lips of his companion.
"It was in the year 1587," said he, as the Italian ceased; "almost two hundred years since, and you were present ?" The Italian replied: "I was present.

I have witnessed so many dreadful scenes, and been present at so many executions, that this sad spectacle was not an unusual one to me, and would not have remained fixed in my memory had I not loved, devotedly and fervently, the beautiful Queen Mary Stuart.