seemed ready to come together. It's no' for nought that Nature expresses her wrath-the very gaping ground shuddered as if unwilling to take such sinful dust into its bosom.' I remember the day well, though an old story now. He was a douce man, John Telfer, and had fought in the great battles which the people waged with the nobles, in the days of Montrose and David Lesley. He continued to dig till a skull appeared; he looked at it and said, 'Thou empty tabernacle, sore art thou changed since I saw thee amongst the splendid Madams of thy day! Where are thy bright eyes, thy long tresses, which even monarchs loved, and the lips which spoke so witchingly and sang so sweet? Thou art become hideous to behold! -How art thou fallen since the days of thy youth, and how ghastly thou art in the sunny air, amid the church-yard grass! And he threw it with his shovel among the grass and daisies growing thick around.

"Now there came to the kirk-yard a young man of an ancient kindred, who had blood in his veins of those who had wrought good deeds of old for Scotland. But he was a wild and a dissolute youth, who loved gay dresses and drunken companions: his blood was hot, his hand often on the sword-hilt, and his chief delight was in chambering and in visits at midnight to the ladies' bower. Your father and your mother have warned you to beware of the folly of the Master of Logan-his name hath become a proverb and a warning in the land. It is of him I speak.

"And he came, as I said, into the kirk-yard, and as he came he whistled. He touched the fleshless skull with the toe of his Turkey shoe till the earth fell out of the eye-holes, and he said, 'John, whose skull is this?'-A woman's Sir,' said John, and wrought away with his shovel; for he was a good man, and disliked to be questioned by one whom he hated. A woman's!' said the Master of Logan, some presser of curd and creamer of milk! yet a dainty one in her day, I'll warrant.'-' Deed, Sir,' answered John, the woman was well to look at, and a dainty one was she. I have seen gowd and jewels aboon that brow, and such a pair of een beneath, as would have wiled the bird from the brier or the lark from the sky." -O, I can guess the rest,' said the Master of Logan-' an alluring damsel, with sinful black eyes-who excelled in the dance-could sing a merry ballad-had made no captious vow against the company of men-was sometimes visited by the minister, and came to the kirk when the Sessions sat. Am I right?'

"John looked at him for half-a-minute's space, and then answered, 'Ay! right-wool sellers, ken wool buyers-wha would have thought, now, that the living could look on a sample of gross dust and claim relationship in spirit? It's e'en a true tale, Master of Logan-so go home and repent. Dust is what ye maun come to; some unhallowed foot will yet kick your skull, and cry "Here was a mani who had wit in his day, but what is he now?" Why, John, ye can preach nearly as well as the parson'- Preach!" said John = 'I have preached, Sir, in my day-it was during the times of the Godly Covenant, and I behoved to speak; for one of Crom well's troopers pulled that hen-hearted body, Bryce Bornagain, out of the pulpit, and set up his southern crest. I trow I sobered

him-I trow I sobered him what I couldna do with the word I accomplished with anither weapon,' and John threw the earth into the air, out of the bottom of a ten-foot deep grave, with an energy which those days of double controversy recalled. 'Ye would like to have those days back again, I think, John?' inquired the other. Back again! na troth, no,' said he, I would have nought back again that's anes awa-the days of Cromwell are weel away, if they bide-and so is Phemie Morison there, whase skull ye're handlingshe's well awa, too, if she bide.'-Bonnie Phemie Morison!' replied the Master of Logan, and is this her!-she seems fairly enough away. What should bring her back again?'-Oh just love of evil,' said the conqueror of Cromwell's preaching dragoon, to visit the haunts of early joys, maybe-or of unrepented sins. It's said her spirit finds a pleasure of its own in coming back to the good green earth. We're no dead when we are dust, Master of Logan.' And he laid his hand on the brink of the lowly dwelling he had prepared, and leaped out with an avidity which seemed to arise from an apprehension that the dust on which he trode was ready to be reanimated.

6

"The Master of Logan placed the skull on the tomb-stone of one of his ancestors, and said, 'Now, John, between you and me, do you really think that our fair friend, here, takes a walk in the spirit occasionally-saunters, as she did of old, in the cool of the summer twilight-stalks round the grave of some unhappy youth, whom her charms consigned to early rest, and enjoys again, in idea, the love which she inspired?'-' Ha' done,' said John, ha' done, Master of Logan, now but ye talk fearfully. Look an' yere wild words be not inspiring that crumbling bone as if with life. I could maist take my oath that it looked at me.' John's brow grew moist, and he said, 'I wish the corpse would come, for this is an unsonsie place.''Particularly,' said the other, when Phemie Morison, here, walks about and pays visits.'-O heart-hardened creature!' cried John, "yere folly will get a sobering.—I have kenned as bold lads as your honour made humble enough in spirit about the middle watches of the night. There was Frank Wamfray, a soldier, who neither feared God nor man. A spirit, in likeness of a woman, came to him in the dead hour of the night, and caroused with him out of his canteen, at the gates of Proud Preston-I could go blindfold to the spotand what came of him? He lived and died demented-he was a humbling spectacle.' Loud laughed the Master of Logan, and cried Here's fair Phemie Morison. I wish she would come and sup with me to-night?' He was observed to change colour, he turned to walk away, and the old man exclaimed, See! there is an unearthly light in the sockets. Sir, repent and pray, else ye will sup with an evil spirit.'

6

"The Master went away, and as he spurred his horse he could not prevent his thoughts from returning to the scene which he had just witnessed. He imagined that he saw the old man, the open grave, and the mouldering skull placed on the tombstone. He slackened the rein of his horse, and after a fit of unusual moodiness, muttered, I am as mad as Cromwell's old adversary, John the Bedrell, himself— there can be no life in a rotten bone, nor light in the eyes of an

empty skull'-he galloped away, and his mind was soon occupied with gayer subjects, and looks of another kind than those of death and the grave.

"He had a cup of wine to drink with a companion, a fair dame to visit, and when he reached the gate of his own tower the clock was striking ten. He threw his rein to his servant and entered-rang his bell violently, as was his wont when angry, and said, Lockerbie, how is this?-here is a table covered and dishes set for two-fool! I sup alone-how comes this?'- Even so as was ordered,' replied Lockerbie; between light and dark, a messenger rode to the gate, rang the porch bell, and said, " A lady sups with the Master to-night, so let a table be spread for two." This, as your honour knows, is a message neither sae startling nor uncommon, sae I gied orders, and moreover I said, ladies love music, nor do they hate wine, let both be had, and'——— Lockerbie,' said his young master, what manner of person was this messenger?'-' Oh, a pleasant man, with a red face,' replied the servant, but he merely delivered the message, and rode. I wish he had stopped, had it only been to eschew the thunder plump which fell when the loud clap was. And that's weel mindedthere's Dick Sorbie swears through the castle wa', and yere honour kens it's twelve feet thick, that the messenger was a braw bouncing lass, with a scarlet cloak on and een like elf candles-but I say a man, a pleasant man, with a ruddy countenance.'

"The Master, when he heard this, wore a serious brow-he paced up and down the room-looked at the covered table-gazed out into the night-the moon was there with all her stars; the stream was running its course-the owl was hooting on the castle wall, and the relics of the thundercloud were melting slowly away on the hills of Tinwold. A wild delusion!' he muttered to himself-my ear was poisoned by weak old Martha who nursed me. See! nature continues her course-the moon shines-the stars are all abroad-the stream runs and how can I imagine that a wild word, said in jest, should change the common course of nature. I cannot, shall not believe it!'

"He threw himself on a settee of carved oak, and looked on the walls and on the ceiling of the apartment. On the former hung the arms and the portraits of his ancestors-and grim and stately they looked. On the latter was painted a rude representation of the Day of Judgment-from which this room had, in early days, acquired the name of the Judgment-hall. Graves were opening and giving up their dead, and some were ascending to a sad and some to a saving sentence. He had never looked seriously on this composition before-nor did he desire to peruse it now; but he could not keep his eyes off it. From one of the graves which opened on the left-hand of the Great Judge, he saw a skull ascend-and he thought there was a wild light in its eyeless sockets, resembling what he had seen that afternoon in the burial-ground.

"The Master of Logan went to a cabinet of ebony and took out a Bible with clasps of gold-he touched it now for the second time, and opened it for the first-it had belonged to his mother-but of his mother he seldom thought, and if he remembered his fathers, it was but to recall their deeds in battle and dwell on those actions which had more affinity to violence than to virtue. He opened the Bible, but he did not read:-the sight of his mother's writing, and the entry of his

own birth and baptism, in her small and elegant hand, made his eyes moist, though no tears fell :-as he sat with it open on his knee, he thought there was more light in the chamber than the candles shed, and lifting his head, he imagined that a female form, shadowy and pure, dissolved away into air as he looked. That was, at least, a real phantom of the imagination,' he said mentally- the remembrance of my mother created her shape-and it is thus that our affections fool us.' He closed and clasped the Bible, and lifting a small silver bell from the table rang it twice. A venerable and grayheaded man came tottering in, saying, What is your will?'

6

"I rang for you, Rodan, to ask your advice,' said he,- sit down and listen. Alas! Sir, it's lang lang now since ony body asked it,' said the other, with a shake of his silvery hairs, though I have given advice, as your good and gallant father, rest his soul, experienced, both in the house and on the edge of battle.'-' But this,' said the Master, is neither matters of worldly wisdom, nor pertaining to battle.' Then,' said the old man, rising, 'it's no' for me, it's no' for me. If it's a question of folly, ask yere sworn companion, young Darisdeer-if it be a matter of salvation, whilk I rather hope than expect, ask the minister, godly Gabriel Burgess-he'll make darkness clear t' ye; he'll rid up the mystery of death and the grave, and for laying spirits!-but we're no fashed with spirits, I trow, and am no' sure that I ever saw ane, unless I might call the corpse light of old Nanse Kennedy a spirit. I would rather trust my cause with Gabriel Burgess than with ony dozen divines of these dancing and fiddling days. Bid Sorbie saddle a horse, a quiet one and quick-footed,' said the Master, and lead it over the hill, to Kirk-Logan, and bring the minister to me. He will show this Bible, and say the owner desires to see him as fast as speed can bring him.' The old man bowed, and retired.

"I have often ridden on an errand to a lady,' said Sorbie, and it seems natural that an errand to the parson should followthough what my master can want with him is beyond my knowledge -he's nane of the praying sort-as little is he of the marrying sort—and, I think he wadna send for a good divine, to make fun of him over the bottle with his wild comrades. He mauna try to crack his fun on godly Gabriel Burgess. I wad rather face the Master of Logan himself, when kindled with drink and inflamed with contradiction. The minister's the man for handling a refractory sinner. I think I see him fit to spring out of the pulpit, like a fiery dragon-his hands held out, his eyes shining, his grey hair rising up like eagles' wings, and his voice coming down among sinners like a thunder-clap. And then there is a power given him of combating the spirits of darkness - an open Bible, a drawn sword, a circle of chalk and some wise words-so Gabriel prevails. I wonder what puts spirits in my head in this lonesome place.' He spurred his horse, and looking right and left, before and behind, like one keeping watch in suspicious places, entered a wild ravine, partly occupied by a brook, and wound his way along the banks chanting the Gallant Graemes, with all the courage he could muster; he pitched the tune low, for he desired to have the entire use of ear and eye in his ride down the Deadman's Gill, for so the glen was called.

"His horse snorted and snuffed, and Sorbie saw, to his infinite de

light, that a lady riding on a little palfrey, and attended by a single servant, had entered the gorge of the glen, and was coming towards him. Now, in the name of fun, what soft customer can this be?' said he to himself: she's mantled and veiled as if afraid of the night air. But what the fiend is the matter with the beasts?-softly, softly, Galloway Tam, else ye 'll tumble me and coup the ladydamn the horses, that I should say sae, and me in a eerie place and in the way to the minister too-softly, softly." The road luckily widened at the place where he met this wandering dame, else, such was the irritable temper of the horses which he rode and led, that he would have certainly lost his seat. He bowed as she came up, and said, Good even, fair Mistress, ye ride late.'-' And good even to thee, good fellow,' said the lady, in a voice of great natural sweetness, it is late, but I have not far to go, if the Master of Logan be at 'home?'-' He 's at home, and alone,' answered Dick, with a low bow, and expecting some one, for I saw a table spread for two: I know not who is the invited guest. The lady laughed, and lifting her veil, showed a youthful and lovely face, with bright eyes and flaxen ringlets-then dropped the veil and continued her journey. It's a face I have never seen before,' said Sorbie to himself, but such a face as that will aye be welcome to the Master of Logan. I maun spur on for the minister, since such a sweet dame as yon is on a visit. My master will scarcely wait for his coming to say grace afore meat -she's a shiner.' And away rode the messenger at a round pace. "Just as he emerged from the glen, he saw a dark figure riding slowly towards him; and it seemed to his sight that horse and rider were one, for both were dark. Now,' muttered he, the auld say. ing's come to pass,- Meet wi' a woman at night and then ye're fit to meet with the Deil"-for here He comes-riding, I dare be sworn, on Andrew Johnston of Elfsfield.' The rider approached, and said, Turn-turn-I am on my way to thy master.' Be merciful, but this is wondrous!' exclaimed the other, in ecstasy. 'Is this you, Minister? O, but ye are welcome!' and he took off his hat and shook back his hair, more to cool his burning brow, on which drops of terror had gathered, than out of respect to the clergyman. 'Come, turn thy bridle back, Richard Sorbie,' said Gabriel,- Thou hast seen something, such as human sight cannot behold without fear, which hath moved thee thus.

·

"Sorbie had, however, recovered all his ordinary audacity, and answered very gaily, Indeed, Minister, to tell ye the truth, ye were the object of terror yourself; for seeing ye coming, riding along in this haunted place, all dark, horse and man, I e'en set ye down for the Enemy instead of the friend o' mankind, and I'm free to own that I did na like to face ye. Faith, but my horses, poor things, were wiser than me; they took it calmly enough, and ye ken yourself a horse is no' willing to ride up to an emissary of the other world, or emissaries of this world either, Minister, else Galloway Tam wouldna have made sic a work. He nearly laid me on the gowans, when I met a wandering Queen of Sheba, in the Deadman's Gill, some ten minutes since.' A wandering lady, at this hour, in this wild glen!' said Gabriel: and what manner of woman was she?'- Oh a lass wi' manners enough, Minister,' said Sorbie; and veiled, as ye may guess, with an armful of lint-white locks about her bonnie blue een. But