has fallen on me, for, since his death, the old fellow continues to occnpy my house without paying rent, and there's no taking the law of a dead man. The people pretend to hear the clinking of gold all night in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were eounting over his money, and sometimes a groaning and moaning about the court. Whether true or false, these stories have brought a bad name on my house, and not a tenant will remain in it"
"Enough," said the mason sturdily; "let me live in your house rent-free until some better tenant present, and I will engage to put it in repair, and to quiet the tronbled spirit that disturbs it. I am good Christian and a poor man, and am not to be daunted by the Devil himself, even though he should come in the shape of a big bag of money!"
The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted; he moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his engagements. By little and little he restored it to its former state; the clinking of gold was no more heard at night in the chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be heard by day in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he incrcased rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neighbours, and bccame one of the richest men in Granada: he gave large sums to the Church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his conscience, and never rcvealed the secret of the vault until on his death-bed, to his son and heir.
