That night the landlord and parish clerk determined to watch in the chamber of the former, which commanded a prospect of the churchyard. The stranger had not yet made his appearance; the black steed, much to the host's annoyance, remained in his stable unclaimed. They sat patiently; at last, they started, for both heard a noise, seemingly proceeding from the stable. They were yet undetermined whether to descend the stairs or not, when the hollow tramp of the horse was heard under the window; and, looking forth, they beheld the stranger leading his steed in the direction of the churchyard! It was a bright, beamy, moonlight night; and the figures of the horse and his leader seemed doubly dark and black as they intercepted the beams. Arrived at the churchyard, the stranger abandoned his horse, and entered the place where the gravestones were shining in the light,

The gazers were cold with terror.

"There, there!" said the landlord, "he's at the grave listen, hear him calling the dead!" And they listened and fancied they heard the summons that was to break the bonds of death.

"See, see!" said the clerk, "the ground is moving, like the burrow of a mouldy warp! He's there!-he's there! Gripe Gibbons himself! Fire, man!-fire the blunderbuss!"

Absurd as this suggestion was, the landlord instantly complied. The echo was followed by the deep, high, unnatural laughter of the stranger; but the recoil of the weapon prostrated both the host and his companion, with a violence that left them, for a moment, senseless. The thunderbeat of the strong black horse arcused them

they rushed to the casement:-far away the horse sprung over hill and hollow, under a double burthen!

66

Gripe Gibbons has paid his reckoning this night!" said the clerk, at length.

"I wish," said the landlord, after a pause, "the other had done so too.". -For the horseman had forgotten to discharge his shot.

ANONYMOUS.

STORY OF MACPHERSON.

I RECEIVED yours of the twentieth of October, entreating me to furnish you with the tale, which you say you have heard me relate, concerning the miraculous death of Major Macpherson and his associates among the Grampian Hills. I think the story worthy of being preserved, but I never heard it related save once; and though it then made a considerable impression on my mind, being told by one who was well acquainted both with the scene and the sufferers, yet I fear my memory is not sufficiently accurate, with regard to particulars; and without these the interest of a story is always diminished, and its authenticity rendered liable to be called in question. I will, however, communicate it exactly as it remains impressed on my memory, without avouching for the particulars relating to it; in these I shall submit to be corrected by such as are better informed.

I have forgot on what year it happened, but I think it was about the year 1805-6, that Major

Macpherson, and a few gentlemen of his acquaintance, with their attendants, went out to hunt in the middle of that tremendous range of mountains which rise between Athol and Badenoch. Many are the scenes of wild grandeur and rugged deformity which amaze the wanderer in the Grampian deserts; but none of them surpasses this in wildness and still solemnity. No sound salutes the listening ear, but the rushing torrent, or the broken eldrich bleat of the mountain goat. The glens are deep and narrow, and the hills steep and sombre, and so high, that their grizzly summits appear to be wrapped in the blue veil that canopies the air. But it is seldom that their tops can be seen; for dark clouds of mist often rest upon them for several weeks together in summer, or wander in detached columns among their cliffs; and during the winter they are abandoned entirely to the storm. Then the flooded torrents, and rushing wreaths of accumulated snows, spend their fury without doing harm to any living creature; and the howling tempest raves uncontrolled and unregarded.

Into the midst of this sublime solitude did our jovial party wander in search of game. They were highly successful. The heath cock was interrupted in the middle of his exulting whirr, and dropped lifeless on his native waste; the meek ptarmigan fell fluttering among her gray crusted stones, and the wild roe foundered in the correi. The noise of the guns, and the cheering cries of the sportsmen, awakened those echoes that had so long slept silent; the fox slid quietly over the hill, and the wild deer bounded away

into the forests of Glendee from before the noisy invaders.

In the afternoon they stepped into a little bothy, or resting lodge, that stood by the side of a rough mountain stream, and having meat and drink, they abandoned themselves to mirth and jollity.

This Major Macpherson was said to have been guilty of some acts of extreme cruelty and injustice in raising recruits in that country, and was, on that account, held in detestation by the common people. He was otherwise a respectable character, and of honourable connexions, as were also the gentlemen who accompanied him.

When their hilarity was at the highest pitch, ere ever they were aware, a young man stood before them, of a sedate, mysterious appearance, looking sternly at the major. Their laughter was hushed in a moment, for they had not observed any human being in the glen, save those of their own party, nor did they so much as perceive when their guest entered. Macpherson appeared particularly struck, and somewhat shocked at the sight of him; the stranger beckoned to the major, who followed him instantly out of the bothy: the curiosity of the party was aroused, and they watched their motions with great punctuality; they walked a short way down by the side of the river, and appeared in earnest conversation for a few minutes, and from some involuntary motions of their bodies, the stranger seemed to be threatening Macpherson, and the latter interceding; they parted, and though then not above twenty yards distant, be

fore the major got half way back to the bothy, the stranger guest was gone, and they saw no more of him.

I cannot tell how the truth may be,

I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

But what was certainly extraordinary, after the dreadful catastrophe, though the most strict and extended inquiry was made, neither this stranger nor his business could be discovered. The countenance of the major was so visibly altered on his return, and bore such evident marks of trepidation, that the mirth of the party was marred during the remainder of the excursion, and none of them cared to ask him any questions concerning his visitant, or the errand that he came on.

This was early in the week, and on the Friday immediately following, Macpherson proposed to his companions a second expedition to the mountains. They all objected to it on account of the weather, which was broken and rough, but he persisted in his resolution, and finally told them that he must and would go, and those who did not choose to accompany him might tarry at home. The consequence was, that the same party, with the exception of one man, went again to hunt in the forest of Glenmore.

Although none of them returned the first night after their departure, that was little regarded, it being customary for the sportsmen to lodge occasionally in the bothies of the forest; but when Saturday night arrived, and no word from them, their friends became dreadfully alarmed. On Sunday, servants were despatched to all the