"Do you mean Lady Redbraes, who had this, hour ago in the little tapestried room, which house before grandpapa bought it, and who died so suddenly at her mirror, in the act of combing her beautiful long hair, of which she had been so vain ?" "Her very ladyship! and do you know Jeanie's version of the story? The said lady was enamoured of a beautiful young lord, much younger than herself, and she saw that her chief charm, her luxuriant tresses, were feeling time's hand, and growing grey and lustreless. So one day, as she stood combing them out at her mirror, and thinking how she might witch away the heart of the young lord of Randalswood, her eyes fell suddenly on her decaying beauty, and she wished for a magic spell to restore the loveliness of her girlhood. And quoth Jeanie, The deil pit in her head to mak' a pomatum for her hair, to gie it an uncanny light; and what think ye did she tak' for the grease to mak' the pomatum?' Here the old lady screwed her features into the most awful expression of horror, and spoke so low I could scarcely follow her meaning- Naething less devilish than the fat of a wee round-limbed bairn o' a year auld, a bonny wee bairn that she wiled hame till her from its mither. And she took yerbs gathered at midnight, and said fearfu' words over them, and minched them down, and boiled them wi' the fat, and made a pomatum, and covered her hair wi' it on a Friday night, saying her prayers back a' the time; and the next day she looked lovelier nor the sun on a July mornin'. And the young lord cam' a wooin', and the weddin' was settled, and the bride at her glass, keeming out the gowden locks just like the lace on Captain Charlie's shouthers, they shone so bricht; and all of a suddent the bridemaids heard a wee bairne's voice, saying "Witch wife! Witch wife! Through whom I have lint my life, From your bridegroom and all; And,' continued Jeanie, when the voice ended, the leddy lay dead wi' the kame in her hand, and the lang hair hinging down o'er the chair-back to the ground, was a' grey and dry, and fusionless. And she's aye walking, walking in amang the rooms where she used to live, steppin' sae stately o'er the flures, and kaming the lang locks in her fingers, and bearin' hersel as proud as a queen; but the eyes of her are like the eyes of a deevil in hell, burning wi' rage and agony. And oh! Miss Hannie, ye're fond fond o' yer glass, and ye'll stand there by the half-hour, sticking in bits o' evergreens and arbutus berries, frae the snawy shrubbery; tak' tent, my bonny May, ye dinna luve your beauty ower well, or it slay your saul like the laddy o' Redbraes.' "And now, Ella, you have the whole tale in Jeanie's own words, delivered to me half-an always makes me think of Hamlet's mother's boudoir, where Polonius was mistaken for a rat; and I don't know which are worst, rats or eaves-droppers. She's a treasure, that Janet; she has such a fund of old musty stories, and believes them all devoutly, which has a marvellous effect in the narration. I am so glad your mother has taken her, Ella, for she was miserable in that ruinous old place in the highlands; she never names it without groaning, Ichabod the glory's departed;' and truly, if Captain Charles Macdonald is to represent the glory of his family, it must have been snuffed out altogether when it reached him." "How you run on, Hannah! I sometimes think, from your frequent ridicule of Charles Macdonald, that you have a maidenly whim of hiding a deep attachment." "Oh! for the love of my good taste," cried Hannah, "banish such a wild fancy, dear Ella; if I had cared for him, do not you own that I would naturally have gone to the ball to-night to laugh with him, instead of staying at home to laugh at him? But I do wish I had put on your respirator, and a green shade over my eyes, and cheated Harry Vane into the idea I was my sweet cousin. Suppose he had proposed to the respirator! Would it have been a legal contract?-could I have sued for breach of promise? At any rate I should have learned a secret, fair coz. !" Ella smiled languidly-hers was not a buoyant spirit; she had for weeks looked forward to this ball, not for the sake of dancing-she was too delicate for that fatigue-but for the hope of renewing an intimacy, which in the dreamy recesses of her invalid life had influenced her mind in a very extraordinary degree. Her sisters, robust and rosy, each with a train of admirers, how happy they were! and how she had envied them in their white robes and ivy wreaths, as they bounded in before their departure, to kiss the pale dark-eyed girl, wrapped in shawls, on a sofa; and over Ella hung to-night more than usual the presentiment of early death. She had long known herself to be consumptive; for years she had lived by rule, watched unceasingly by her affectionate relatives; but the summer before, she had gained so much strength, that the rigid precautions were in a great measure relaxed, and Ella joined her sisters in the amusements of her age. Alas for her new-born hopes of health! a sudden thunder-storm towards the end of autumn had drenched her delicate frame, and again began the cough, the hectic colour, the too bright eye-beams; and Ella was once more intrenched in the atmosphere of a thermometer-tested room. Her sisters were very sorry, but they were too young to be really depressed; and her mother was taken up with the usual matrimonial machinations which perplex the brains of all mammas with marriageable daughters. Ella was left much alone, and she read and reflected, and mused, till her imagination, fed by solitude, increased into morbid activity and strength. 1 “Tell me,” said her cousin, "do you really believe in ghosts?" "I should be bold to confess a belief in the nineteenth century, even did I feel it," answered Ella; "but I do not-it is a thing on which we cannot reason; but to me such a thing seems unlike the love or the justice of our great Ruler: yet I cannot deny its possibility; for if the angels are sent to minister to us, why not redeemed and glorified spirits? but, if you remark, most stories of apparitions are of guilty spirits denied the rest of death. However, it is not of what I may see in darkness that I stand in fear-it is of what I may imagine so vividly as to affect me with all the terrors of an actual vision. Most legends of apparitions are to be traced to people of a highly excitable imagination; and we know how easily in twilight our fears give form to the most indistinct masses. I confess a strong dislike to darkness-I never can sleep without a light. The removal of light seems like the breaking down of a barrier, and crowds of horribly fantastic images rush upon me. Light is as the visible presence of a friend-I never feel fectly alone in a lighted room." 6 per "Well," said Hannah, "I never think about such things at night; I summon up some pleasant memories to go off upon, in a dream,' as Jeanie would say. I think it ensures pleasant dreams, to strew the threshold of the poppy god with bright thoughts." "Then pray do you go to sleep thinking of Charles Macdonald?" asked Ella, a little archly. "Somnus forbid! I would as soon take a band of Thugs for my dream key-note. Why I never can see the man without picturing all the terrible stories fame tells about his ancestors. They must have been a rare set. I wonder if they condescend to pay any visits to the good Cockney merchant who bought their old castle, or if they prefer the graves on the loch side to their desecrated halls. I must tell you one story of a spirit-not a human spirit, Ella, but a being of unearthly mould; I could not make out whether fairy or devil, or angel, or kelpie or merman that part of the legend is imperfect, Charles says." "Oh, then, this is not one of Jeanie's stories, good Hannah; I thought you would hardly treasure up her words so minutely." "Ella," said Hannah, with a reddened cheek, "pray leave the satirical to me-the sentimental is more becoming to your face. I did hear this from Captain Macdonald, the only time I ever heard him talk rationally, if you can call any man rational whose wisest talk is of ghosts, and spectres, and hobgoblins! warm negus-and now for my tale, or rather Charles Macdonald's: In the days of chivalry and romance, when ladies were deities, and gentlemen couldn't read and write, when it was a grand thing to be a chieftain among the mountains, and a great bore to be a cateran convicted by a Sassenach sheriff; when ladies talked scandal over their distaffs, instead of, as now, over their cards; when lords grew their own gibbets, and maidens spun their own bridal gear In these halcyon days there lived in Sutherland the Lady of Tongue, rich, young, beautiful, and marriageable; a prize for Irish fortunehunters, who have infested Scotland since the Hibernian Scots came over in the days of the Picts, looking for girls and gear. The Lady of Tongue would have been the most wonderful heiress ever heard of, had she not been pestered with "eligible matches." She had two guardians, worthy respectable men of the world, who stood well in the eyes of their neighbours, and had not more than an average number of creaghs and murders laid to their account; men who reverenced the noble family of which the Lady of Tongue was the head, and they insignificant members; and they were desirous that their lovely ward should very form a suitable alliance. Ian Mohr, the senior guardian, was for seeking the hand of Lord Reay himself, the head of a powerful sept; but Alister Roy, a little cunning carrotty-haired wight, made a plot in favour of his own son, Alister Mac Alister, a youth as cunning and carrotty-haired as himself. But the Lady of Tongue heeded neither of her guardians. She had no girlish love of gaiety and admiration; her eyes were full of a dreamy light, and her mien was pensive and abstracted. She shunned the society of persons of her own age; she was prone to lonely rambles, and would sit for hours musing by the side of the salt loch which flowed below her castle. Her foster-sister was the only one ever admitted to her company; and the two young damsels, being hardy and light-footed, had soon examined every hill and glen for miles around. 'One day Marcelly was waiting for her mistress in a lower room of the castle, which looked out on the lake, when she saw that the boat which lay usually moored on the beach for the use of her lady, had been removed. She went out hurriedly, and ran down to the shore. There she stood, rapidly scanning with her eyes the whole surface of the loch. Now about a mile from the mainland there lay a small rocky islet, a dreary place, with a few stunted trees on it. On its banks Marcelly perceived the missing "But to give a specimen of his rationality, boat; and gazing fixedly, she thought she I'll relate a tale of his maternal great grand- saw the flutter of her lady's dress behind the mother's great aunt. But first let me shut out brushwood. There was nothing strange in that impertinent moonbeam, that makes your this, as Marcelly had before this visited the face as blue as a drowned sailor's; and pray islet with her mistress; so she sat down, with poke up the fire, and here's a big log for the patient expectation of the lady's return. At top of it; and look, people who sit up for ball-length the faithful watcher descried the beloved dancers need a supper as well as the gayest who form of the beautiful Helen emerging from among 'foot it featly;' so pray have some jelly and the shrubs; but to the handmaid's astonish ment, another form moved beside the lady's. The distance was too great to distinguish, though Marcelly was as keen-sighted as any deer-hunter in the clan; but she was now obliged to sit still and marvel. The two figures approached the boat; one entered, and it was pushed off into the little curling waves, and ere very long Lady Helen stood beside her foster-sister. She was strangely agitated; her large eyes dilated with a passionate brightness, which Marcelly had never seen there before, and her frame trembled with emotion. At the first sight of Marcelly sitting there in grave and anxious wonderment, the lady turned pale, then blushed crimson, and then spoke with a faltering tongue, af laying her hand earnestly on her attendant's arm. "Tell me, sister of my heart, what hast thou seen?" "I saw two figures on the island," answered Marcelly; "but I could not discern the likeness of thy companion; but oh! Lady, I pray you-" Pray nothing!" interrupted the chieftainess, reassuming her usual calmness and gentle but authoritative manner; "be silent, Marcelly, as you love me-keep thy tongue carefully, good girl." have been a good sort of body on the whole; not unlike the generality of good servants, who, if you attempt to keep them in ignorance, make every sense a separate spy upon you; but who, on the contrary, if trusted, will keep your secret fast as the gates of death. So this went on for some days, the lady paddling over to the island every night, and paddling back every morning; and the foster-sister wearing herself to a skeleton, in her anxiety to penetrate the mystery. Many days passed, I said, and others in the castle began to suspect, like Marcelly; and Lady Helen saw strange meaning in the eyes of her dependants. Suddenly she broke off her usual habits of isolation and solitude, and sending for Marcelly, asked simply what her people thought of her nightly visits to the island. Marcelly was frightened, and ashamed of her own share in the gossip; but she loved her lady, and answered truly— 666 "They say you have been discerned on the island talking with a shining stranger, who is like no man ever seen among us; and they fear that you are bewitched by some spirit of evil, who has disguised himself in this shape of light." The lady sat silent for some moments, and then spake abruptly Marcelly, it is true I have talked with this stranger of the island, and he is glorious beyond words to express. He is not like men-is the eagle like the sparrow?" Marcelly bent her head in acquiescence; but you may be sure, Cousin Ella, she was dying of curiosity to hear all about the stranger. However, she had more self-control than I think I should have had in her place; so she "But the eagle is a fierce bird of prey," refollowed her lady home with all proper meek-monstrated Marcelly; "and he loves to rend the innocent lamb with his talons." ness. The next evening, Marcelly's ears being sharpened probably by an itching for the grand secret, she was certain she heard the little postern gate at the back of the castle swinging on its rusty hinges; and so she leaped from her bed (I give that dignified appellation to the heap of heather-tops on which she lay), and ran to look out upon the loch. You may suppose her astonishment, Ella, when she discovered the little row-boat gliding away on the moon-lit waters, like a beetle crawling over a lookingglass-and the boat rowed direct to the little island. Of course Marcelly never thought of the stranger, and of course she never connected that shining form she had seen in the sunset, with this midnight escapade of her lady's; for on going stealthily into the bedroom of the young heiress-(she really had a bed, a regular four-poster)-Marcelly found it unoccupied. The faithful foster-sister could not sleep all that night for sheer curiosity; she stood uneasily staring at the island from her little window; and before the dawn was grey, just as the stars were dying, back flitted the boat, and out stepped the lady, wrapped from head to foot in her plaid, and through the back postern passed noiselessly to her chamber. "Tush!" said the Lady; "you are one of the kerne, good Marcelly; you cannot judge for me in this. I am the Lady of Tongue, and my love shall light where it listeth." So saying, she dismissed the damsel. Left to her own thoughts, the romantic heiress paced restlessly through the chamber, and, like a true heroine, plunged into an audible soliloquy—“Oh, Child of Light!" said the Lady of Tongue, using a Gaelic expression which I can neither pretend to translate nor to pronounce, though Charles rattles it off; a most musical term of endearment it is, like a pig's satisfaction over a full trough—“ Oh, Child of Light! is it thus they have belied thee? Thou, pure and glittering as the dew, and, like it, dropping gently from heaven into the path of an unworthy mortal! because in thy port shows more than human majesty, because thine eyes emit unearthly lustre, do they brand thee as an evil thing? But so it is ever in this world, so it ever shall be. The common crowd will vilify the soul that is too high for them to understand. Whatever rises above the low level of human degradation, that do they attribute to the promptings of infernal powers. To be better than man, is to expose oneself to be called a devil!" And she laughed scornfully, yet sadly. Now, Ella, I don't ask you to believe that the Lady of Tongue said all this, for I more than suspect Captain Charles of concocting this sentimental soliloquy; but the love-sick damsel did talk to herself aloud, for she was overheard by one of her vassals, who listened at the open window, and sped swiftly to her guardian, Ian Mohr, with the news that the Lady of Tongue talked with a ghost, and was surely going mad. 'Ian Mohr was greatly alarmed, for the next heir was a rapacious and needy adventurer, who had spent his youth in the Lowlands, and latterly returned, poorer and more discontented than ever. Ian called a convocation of his colleague, and the hopeful Alister Mac Alister; and after a long debate, they all proceeded to the Castle, and demanded an audience of the lady. Marcelly was sent in with their peremptory but respectful message. She found the lady gazing yearningly over to the island. Perhaps she had seen her guardian's approach from her window, for she exhibited no surprise at their request; but her cheeks were white as eider down, when she desired that they should be ushered to her presence. They went up, and the door was closed behind them. All the vassals had gathered together to know the result of the interview; and you may be sure they enjoyed their scandal quite as keenly as your sisters will enjoy cutting up the company at to-night's ball. The voices in | the closed chamber were very loud and angry; then were heard the lady's pleading tones, then fierce retorts, then weeping and sobs, and finally a dead silence. After a few minutes the listeners distinguished voices low and decided in the intonation, but nothing of meaning could be caught. Presently the door opened, and the visitors walked out, and called on the vassals for their applause. The Lady of Tongue had accepted a husband-not Alister Mac Alister, not the Lord of Reay, but the young chief of a small neighbouring tribe, Mac something which I forget; a stalwart warrior, a "pretty man," as the Gael has it, and a good-looking gentleman besides, that is to say, flesh and blood beauty, for which perhaps Helen of Tongue had lost her taste. At any rate, Helen of Tongue was in no hurry to be married, any more than you or me, Ella, who have no great temptations at present. She had fixed her nuptial day at the distance of six months, hoping, I dare say, that in some of his numerous feuds, the young bridegroom might receive his quietus; or she might have looked for assistance from her spirit-friend, for tradition does not appear to have been in her confidence. "In the meanwhile, she ordered a quarry of pure fine stone to be opened, which she had discovered on the mainland, at a little distance from her castle. And with this stone she set about a great work-to build a castle on the island, sacred to her spirit-lover. The tenantry objected strongly to this undertaking, having superstitious fears of approaching the haunted islet; but the lady went the right way about it lowering the rents of all who assisted in the erection of the building, and raising to an exorbitant height the rents of all who refused. In this manner, despite the unwillingness of the people, the c rose slowly on the barren rock. But all her exertions could not do more than finish about half before the dreaded time appointed for her marriage. There was no escape for the poor Lady of Tongue. The young chief was ruddier, and stronger, and heartier than ever. To be sure he had got a broad scar on his cheek, in the interval of their engagement, but his health was not one whit impaired; such warriors in those good old times never felt any of the thousand ailments which haunt the silken heroes of civilized life; nor was he to be put off from his promised bride, and still more from his bride's rich dowry. The Lady of Tongue had carried him over to the island, and shown him her castle there, and prayed to him on her knees, though what she asked of him none had heard; but all heard his merry laughter, and his reply-" Angel or devil, my pretty bride, I will win you from them all! Though the boldest should claim you from the priest, you shall be mine." So the Lady of Tongue, shamed and heart-stricken, rose from her knees, and went home in her boat. The next day was the day of the wedding. 'I suppose you know, Ella, that the Highlanders used to have magnificent feasts at weddings and burials, looking on both of course as equally pleasant varieties of life's monotony. The Lady of Tongue was in duty bound to spend half her patrimony in the grandeur of her nuptial festivities, to support the honour of her name. And so the old Castle of Tongue was filled with guests on this occasion. It was clear summer weather, fresh and bright and exhilarating. The broad level green before the principal entrance was crowded with vassals in holiday garb; old men sat chatting on the knolls of heather and crowsfoot, and old women counted the wool they had spun during the year. Young men plied all sorts of athletic games upon the grass; and merry-mooded lasses stood and smiled upon their achievements. Alister Mac Alister was there in rather a cross mood; and his father, and Ian Mohr, both glad to get their eccentric ward off their hands. And the bridegroom, full of pride and joy, stood by the lovely Lady of Tongue, and eyed his new home with undisguised delight. But the poor bride stood among the revellers with abstracted and sad mien; her large eyes ever and anon lighting suddenly, and rolling round upon the crowd, as if seeking some wished-for object; then sinking disappointed on the ground, they left her face in cloudy gloom once more. Marcelly, in great distress, watched this mood of her dear fostersister. Gay and splendid as was the festival, her heart foreboded a fatal ending. 'While all this was going on at the Castle, which lay low in the valley near the loch side, an old man herded his goats on the mountain. Far up in the thin light air he sat on a rock alone, and looked downwards to the busy scene. Sounds of mirth and music rose from time to time, and floated on the breeze to his ears, and he smiled at the joy-inspiring strains. The clear loch spread like sheeted silver far below him, winding among the valleys to its parent ocean; and the little islet, with its half-finished towers, on which men even on that day were busily engaged, rose distinct and dark from among the waters. While the old man thus sat, thinking and wishing he could distinguish his daughter Marcelly among the dancers, a rush of the piper's strains swept suddenly past him, and as it died away, he saw he was no longer alone. A man of commanding appearance stood beside him on the heather, tall and beautiful, and wearing a garb very different from the clansmen of the country. "Goatherd," he said, in low, sad musical tones; "hearken to me-you must do my bidding to the Lady of Tongue." "Heaven forbid!" cried the peasant in alarm-for looking earnestly at the stranger, he perceived, that tall and nobly-formed as he was, the pressure of his feet did not weigh down the heather-tops on which he stood, and also the atmosphere around him was more luminous than even the sunny summer air. "He's no canny," thought Donald, and reiterated his refusal. the rock which the old man had just quitted, and which, as I told you, overhung the Castle. 'Down hobbled the ancient Mercury to the festive green, and piercing the crowd, soon espied his daughter, not far from the Lady of Tongue, whom she was watching with melancholy interest. "What brings you here, father?" she asked anxiously, as she hurried to his side. "A token for the Lady of Tongue.” 6.66 Oh, do not give it now, look how pale and sad she is! If you had seen her weeping this morning, when we took in her bridal robes-do not agitate her again. Go back now, dear father," urged Marcelly, trembling with fear and grief. "I dawna go back," said the goatherd, "he's waiting for me up yonder." "He! who is he?" cried Marcelly. "I dinna ken," was the sulky response, as the goatherd moved forward among the crowd to the lady's side. While the bridegroom went apart to give some instructions regarding the games and dancing, the old man seized the op The unknown was not to be repulsed. «Iportunity to put the ring into the hands of the tell you, old man, you cannot help yourself; I have an errand to the Lady of Tongue-you inust bear it." 6.66 "Take it yourself, man!" growled Donald. "I!" said the stranger; and a smile of scorn mingled with the mournful beauty of his features. "I enter that giddy crowd! Here is gold for you, old man; you are poor, this will make your old age luxurious." "I canna leave my goats," faltered Donald, shutting his eyes from the glittering temptation, and crossing himself devoutly. "I will tend them in your absence." "Aye, I dare say, likely enough; ye'll wile them all awa', and to-morrow your fairy gold will be birch leaves or slate stones. Ha, ha!" and he crossed his arms in a dogged way on his knees. "Well," replied the stranger, "I must find your daughter, the foster-sister of the Lady; she will do my will, I know, for she loves dearly yon pale sad bride." "Hoots!" cried Donald in alarm. "I canna let that be. Would ye ruin my bairn with your soul-destroying temptations; and as ye seem willing to gie the price, and somebody maun gang, I'll just e'en gae mysel.' "Give this ring to the Lady of Tongue, without word of speech." It was a sparkling diamond. "The bonny die !" ejaculated Donald, rising slowly for his departure, and staring at the bright jewel in his hand, as he descended the steep and rocky braes. The stranger, meanwhile, with a whistle to the goats which they seemed perfectly to understand-for you must know, Ella, that goats were always looked on by the mountaineers as endowed with supernatural knowledge, and in league with fairies, spirits, &c.-the stranger, after this mysterious whistle, ike a freemason's sign, sat down composedly on fair melancholy bride. Helen of Tongue started her face and neck, and she threw a glance of as she looked at it; the colour fled swiftly from anguish up to heaven; the goatherd also looked up to the mountain peak, and there, on the rock where he had been sitting, he saw, glimmering like a distant star, the shining form of the mys terious stranger. The Lady made a brief excuse to the guests who stood around her, and retired to her chamber before her affianced husband had ceased speaking to the attendants. The sports went on, and the mirth waxed merrier for a few hours; but the banquet was soon ready, and there was a call for the hostessbride. Marcelly, who had been listening in great terror at the chamber-door, now came forward and whispered into the chieftain's ear: he started, and bid her lead the way, calling on the other bridemaids to follow. Marcelly hurried again to the lady's bedroom. The door was closed, and all within was quiet. “Dash it open!" cried the betrothed, with an impatient gesture; and ere he had spoken, he himself flung back with violence the wide and heavy door. Still not a sound-Marcelly, faint and horror-stricken, ran forward to the bed, and with a loud shriek dropped senseless on the body of her foster-sister. Dead and cold, and white as her rich bridal robes, the unhappy Lady of Tongue lay extended on her couch; one hand fell listlessly over the side, and on its third finger, like a threatening comet, blazed the mysterious ring.' "Oh, Ella continued the narrator, breaking off with a laugh," you look as pale yourself as the Lady of Tongue. I hope my tale of horrors has not frightened you from all slumber; for see, it has just chimed two o'clock on that dear little French time-piece, that has a voice as clear and liquid as a young child's." "You need not go now, for the party will be |