This potent urchin slily sprung a shaft, which securely settled in the curate's reverend breast, but which was not long permitted by the compassionate lady hopelessly to rankle in the bosom of her accepted mate; for ere long the "happy, happy pair" were indissolubly united in the bands of holy wedlock. Some folks however, and, by the bye, not few in number, gave it as their opinion, that the lady happening to be the niece and nearest relative to the bishop of——who was unmarried, and besides much attached to his niece, that there appeared to be more of prudent calculation for the future, than ardent love at the present, in the transaction; inasmuch, that a large portion of the uncle's fortune, if not the entire, would ultimately vest in the selected fair one; and perchance, moreover, a rich benefice to boot, which might be expected from his Lordship's great episcopal patronage, that in the developement of time would be bestowed upon Curate Rocket. And all these conjectures, in due and ordinary course, finally and fully occurred. Indeed, in confirmation of these conjectures, there existed an additional cause for nobody's doubting the truth of this popular surmise; it was no less a cogent reason than this, that the lady was by some ten years, at least, elder than the man to whom she was affianced. This was indeed an objection not to be overruled by any thesis or syllogism of the schools; there was here

"No quirk left, no quiddit,"

to defeat its truth. It was in contradiction to sense, to propriety, and meet discretion. Upon this subject thus speaks the immortal Shakespeare, the great moral bard, and poet of nature:—

We must now attempt to present to the reader's eye a just description of the peripatetic, or walking-dress, of Mrs. Rocket, which no doubt pertained to a strange, peculiar, and extraordinary costume, which was in vogue in the times to which we advert. Upon her head she wore a small cap of Valenciennes lace, which was enveloped in a large and ponderous machine, ycleped a calash; which was so denominated from its structure and conformation, bearing a close similitude to the head or leather covering of the French vehicle which is called by a similar name. This structure was formed of various hoops of whalebone, arranged in equidistant, semicircular, parallels, forming en massé a huge and outlandish head-gear; the outside was covered with black lutestring; and the penultimate circle of this pent-house was adornated and fringed with deep lace; the interior was lined with rose-coloured silk, which artfully threw a bloom upon the wearer's visage, whether wife or widow. This ponderous machine could be advanced or drawn back (like the head of a modern barouche or landau) by the occupant ad libitum, according as wind or weather permitted, or caprice might dictate. Likewise, with equal facility, the head of the wearer might be wholly divested of this incumbrance, which, in such a case, was handed over to the custody of the attending lackey.

The reader will please to observe, that this head costume was prevalent before the modern umbrella, or still more recent parasol came into general use; and indeed, in some degree, so far as the covering of the head was taken into calculation, this invention, strange though it may at the present time appear, so far fully answered the functions and intentions of these later discoveries of modern art. The lady wore a large silk cloak, trimmed and flounced with ermine; she also carried a muff, small in size and calibre, formed of the same materials. To these were added, as the materialé of her dress, a stiff flowered silk mantua, supported upon a bell-hoop; an apron trimmed with lace; high heeled shoes formed likewise a part of the dress, with the dangerous appanage of pattens, long since exploded in these parts.

Such was the strange costume which formed the morning or peripatetic habiliments of Mrs. Rocket. This lady also carried a walking-staff, or cane; by this we do not, in any measure, mean to assimilate it to the most formidable and terrific walking-staff once borne by the bluff king Harry of tyrannic memory, and now exhibited in the tower of London with sundry other curiosities that belong not to our province to enumerate. No, gentle reader, the simple staff which the lady bore was of a most placable description; it was, in sooth, a tall tapering indian cane, and adorned on the top with a head of beautiful china porcelain, upon which, in rich and brilliant colouring, were depicted some of the most beautiful wild flowers of summer. And through every change of weather, hail or snow, storm, rain, or sun-shine, was to be seen this indefatigable pedestrian trudging her daily peregrinations. Often, when remonstrated with for thus running the risk of catching cold, and so forth, when in good humour, which was not always the case, she was wont to hum or troll forth an old ditty, one stave of which ran pretty much to the following effect and tenor:—

Very often her temper was extremely cross, which she vented in scolding the servants right and left, wrong or right; and Sunday being a day of rest, was very often selected, with due circumspection, for this wholesome exercise of her lungs. An auld Scottish steward, who superintended the agricultural establishment, upon having auricular proof how matters stood within the mansion, slily remarked: "Ah, wae to the hoose where hens craw, and the cocks are silent!"

Madam Rocket had the reputation all throughout her husband's diocese of being truly a most notable lady in every sublunary concern. She was constituted as sole manageress of the entire home department at the See-house of——; and it was there bruited abroad and around the country far and near, that the "omnia Romæ cum pretio" of Juvenal, might be fairly applied to Madam Rocket's establishment; but it was insisted that the "cito peritura" did by no means belong to the lady. However, rumour went on, with its gossip tongue, to whisper that at the See-house of——every thing was vendible, from the produce of the farm, the barn, the poultry-yard, the piggery, the dairy, the fruit and flower garden—nay, even down to the kitchen garden; every article of which was duly transmuted, as was insisted, into the Regina Pecunia.

The Bishop and his lady, albeit they were no favourites with the Duke and Duchess, were nevertheless most hospitably invited, and even pressed, according to the custom of the times, to remain to dinner, and also to continue their guests for some days at Lætely Abbey. But this was upon their part most gratefully declined. The Bishop and Mrs. Rocket partook of a collation, and departed for Dublin, declining the warm and hospitable invitation upon plea of business in the capital, and to rejoin their family, who had been with them at Arklow for the benefit of sea-bathing, and who had that morning proceeded on their way to the metropolis.

During the residence of the vice-regal visitors in the county of Wicklow, they visited all the romantic scenery and the various picturesque views, each lofty mountain, retired valley, and secluded stream or glen, within the precincts of that fairy region.

The lake of Luggelaw made a deep impression upon the Lady Adelaide. She thus expressed her feelings upon viewing it: "It was," she said, "a scene so sad, so lonely, and solitary; so wild, so rude, and mountain-locked, that one here might almost imagine that they saw one of the secluded pilgrims of Salvator Rosa studiously wrapt in silent devotion, intent on the sacred volume which he held, and praying to his Creator; the wilderness his temple, and his choir the roaring cataract and the accompanying winds of heaven!"

"Vastly well, Adelaide," said the Duke, smiling with pleasure, "vastly well, indeed; and now, my love, to complete your sketch, people these craggy heights above us with three or four banditti; put helmets upon their heads and lances in their firm hands; then on a sudden our whole party, spurring onward our jaded steeds, are to fly from the attack; add to this too to your sketch, and I really think it will be then a finished tableaux, and quite in the due and terrific tone and style of this great poetic painter."

Adelaide sweetly smiled, but replied not.

They next visited Glendalough, or the Seven Churches, and the "sweet Vale of Ovoca." Ascending the high hill of Knockmokil, Adelaide, in impromptu, repeated the following lines:—

They next visited Loch Dan, the Demon's Glen and Waterfall, the Waterfall of Powerscourt, &c. &c.

Lady Adelaide derived the greatest benefit from sea-bathing, and her health became completely re-established, which one day called forth the following eulogium from Sir Patricius Placebo; while engaged in conversation with the Duchess, he observed, "Oh, my Lady, how truly lovely the Lady Adelaide looks in renovated health and beauty! Each day still adds to her charms; and, in verity, I should be fully justified to speak of her in the words of the historic worthy, old Titus Livius, (whose name, by the bye, the ridiculous French sink down into Tit Live—just, my Lady, as if they were speaking of the little bird called Tom Tit!) his words are these: 'Adulta virgo; adeo eximia, forma, ut qûacunqué incedebat converteret omnium oculos'—'An adult virgin of such exquisite form, that wherever her steps were turned, thither with delight the looks of all beholders were directed.'"

The Duchess duly curtsied, and thanked the Baronet for the classical compliment which he had paid; and said, "that inasmuch as she was mother to the object of his praise, she confessed that withal she was indeed too partial to her beloved daughter to gainsay the polite eulogium of Sir Patricius."

The Duke and Duchess determined to remain during each year for some months at their delightful retreat amid the romantic beauties of the county of Wicklow; this residence only to be interrupted by the occasional absence of the Duke to hold a levee or a privy council at Dublin Castle; the routine of state dinners, or when her Grace presided at drawing-rooms, balls, &c. or in occasionally going in state to the theatre royal, &c. &c. The autumnal months were passed at Tyrconnel Castle, but the winter invariably was spent at Dublin Castle.

Thus days and months passed over, marked only in the calendar by health, tranquillity, and social pleasure, without the occurrence of any event of importance sufficient to be recorded here. Two years at this point of time had passed over in peaceful serenity, Lady Adelaide daily improving in the expansion of her mental powers, and in gradual increase of personal beauty. The Duke, who had been long absent from Tyrconnel Castle, proposed to pass the ensuing summer and autumn at that lordly residence, and with all due pomp and solemnity there to celebrate Adelaide's birth-day, who would at that time enter into her seventeenth year; and from thence, these high ceremonials completed, his Grace proposed to proceed to Dublin, to open the biennial session of parliament: and preparations were immediately set on foot to carry these intentions into effect.

During the absence of the noble proprietor Tyrconnel Castle had undergone a thorough repair, and many judicious alterations and improvements had taken place in the internal decoration of the castle, as well as in the external adornment of the lawns, parks, and gardens of this princely abode. Pursuant to their determination, their Graces set out accordingly, upon a fine summer morning, on their journey to their ancient castle; and the space of a week having been occupied in travelling, the entire family of the Duke safely arrived at their destination.

Adelaide was peculiarly delighted once more to behold the scenes of her infancy, which to every feeling mind have indelible charms; and the morning after her arrival at Tyrconnel she ascended the ramparts of the castle, to review the surrounding prospect, so dear to her recollection. It was a serene summer morning. Our readers perchance may recollect the scenery which surrounds the castle of Tyrconnel, the lofty mountains of Slieve-Doon, and the great gap or pass to the mountains, called Barna-More, all of which we have endeavoured to describe in the second chapter of this work. Adelaide's mind was fully in unison with the serenity of the morning, and being deeply impressed with the poetic impulse, she produced her tablets, and poured forth her tribute to the Genius Loci, in the following

INVOCATION TO THE RIVER ESKE.

Time onward rapidly fled on downy pinions, and the birth-day of the Lady Adelaide, which occurred upon the Eve of All-Hallows, was now fast approaching, in celebration of which most magnificent preparations were making, had been made, and were in a progressive state of continuation at this hospitable chateau. The Duke and Duchess seemed fully resolved to spare no expense to testify, if indeed it were at all necessary so to do, their love and attachment to an amiable and affectionate daughter, who was most truly worthy of her parents' love, and of every respect and honour that could be awarded her.

CHAPTER VIII.

Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon the dial of a clock, "DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!"—"while you look on, I fly!"

Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's femme de chambre, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling into her youthful and susceptible mind the superstitions of her native isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and foster-child, a title she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the assertion. Mrs. Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her noble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously determined to suppress them altogether.

The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend. Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.

A number of young people of both sexes were invited to dinner, to celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to include the nucleus of a good supper. All the principal persons of distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.

Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals, yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was caused no doubt by that noble generosity of character which she so eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the gratification of her friends, than in being personally gratified.

The dinner went off with much eclat; pleasantry, wit, and good-humour, all aiding with their potent charms. When the cloth was removed from the ducal table, and the desert and wines were duly placed in order, a stately plateau of confectionary and pastry arrived at the side-table, which was destined for the juvenile guests, who were there seated. That day was indeed a right busy one to all the cooks, scullions, and kitcheners of the household. The thrifty pastry-cooks of these happy days were most notable for, and assumed very considerable pride, in raising those superstructures called "pastry fortifications." The display chosen for this festival was the model of Tyrconnel Castle, flanked by bastion, battlement, and tower; armorial flags, heraldically emblazoned in sugar, decorated the summit of each tower and parapet; and the fosse was floated from its parent Eske, which, instead of a mountain-stream, supplied the said fosse with a broad and deep portion of excellent Spanish flummery, upon which was anchored a tiny Armada; the heights of the barbican and the embrasures of the terrace were defended with a long train of "eatable artillery," and manned by a large disposable garrison of sugar-almonds; the watch-towers were alternately constructed of jelly and blanc manger.

The Duke now gave the word of "assault!" which command was incontinently obeyed, the juvenile party in every direction making one grand attack, by a general coup de fourchette, de couteau, de cullier. The assault was crowned with entire success; the fosse of Spanish flummery quickly disappeared; the whole train of "eatable artillery" promptly were destroyed; the jelly and blanc manger towers were scaled, battered down, and swallowed in a thrice; the Armada shattered and dispersed; the entire garrison without any remorse or mercy were devoured, and the "pastry fortifications" completely razed, without leaving a wreck behind! This attack upon the confectionary bijou much gratified the juvenile assailants, and highly pleased the noble hosts, and the grave company seated at their festive board were most marvellously entertained withal.

In some short time after, selon des règles, the sightless bard, old Cormac, was led in, bearing his harp beneath his arm. He courteously expostulated with those who would fain save him the trouble, by observing, "that he had long borne that instrument his companion in joy or in sorrow, his last and almost only solace upon earth; and that when he was unable to bear his harp, his wish was then to be borne to the grave!" Upon the entrance of the aged minstrel into the saloon, the Duke ordered that a goblet of mead, foaming and sparkling to the brim, should be given to old Cormac; which was accordingly done; and then the toast of that high festival was to be drank, which he repeated: "The health of the noble young Lady Adelaide," said the sightless bard; and to which he was facetiously pleased to annex a friendly addition of his own, which was, "and long may the Lady Adelaide reign!" This is a favourite expression of fervent zeal and affection used by the warm-hearted Irish to their superiors. Now in crowds advanced the young folks, who in various circles thronged around old Cormac, making various inquiries, and asking numerous questions: "Was the old man always blind?"

"Nae, nae, that I was not. I once could see, and well; and truly the light was sweet, and a pleasant thing it was to behold the light of the sun! But now all is dim and dark. Yet I trust that I shall hereafter be permitted to behold the light of heaven! That fervent hope and my harp are my consolations during my pilgrimage of darkness!"

It was next inquired of him how long he had been blind? He replied, "I was of the same age that our dear and ever honoured young Lady (heaven bless her here and hereafter!) has entered into this holy day.—I was in my seventeenth year."

The Duke interdicted all further interruptions: "Cormac, my honest fellow, I fear that my young friends are somewhat disposed to trespass too much upon your time and patience; so quaff your flagon and strike your harp. But remember, Cormac, nothing dismal upon this happy day; no dirge—not even an overture, will be endured!"

Cormac made due obeisance; and seizing his harp, struck its accompanying notes, while he sung the following:—

SONG.

Much applause rang forth a chorus to the minstrel's impromptu Anacreontic, and flowing bumpers were quaffed to "the health of Lady Adelaide!" A glass of Burgundy was handed to old Cormac, which he respectfully declined, but with the request that a glass of pure Innishowen (whiskey) might be substituted in place of it; and with this sturdy appendage to his request, "that it might be unadulterated!" These demands being all strictly complied with, he most devoutly gave his young lady's health, tossed down at the instant the pure Innishowen, and in due approval cordially smacked his lips as the beverage disappeared.

The ladies soon retired, Adelaide deeply blushing at all the honours and attentions bestowed this day; and felt most grateful to the sightless old bard, who had in so feeling a manner manifested such attachment to his young mistress.

The ceremonies of the tea-table being duly concluded, the graver portion of the company sat down to their cards: various games were played, loo, cribbage, gresco, ombre, and lansquenet. The Duke sat down to primero, "which," observed his Grace, "is my favourite game, as it had been with Lord Strafford, when he held the high station in which I am at present placed."

The younger part of the company, in the mean time, not to discompose the gravity of the card-playing dowagers, retired apart to the great saloon, where were stationed all the preliminary accessoirés proper and duly prepared for the mysteries of the Eve of All-Hallows, in order to commence the various spells, tricks, sports, and charms, which national superstition and credulity have consecrated, and hoary tradition handed down from age to age as the records of popular faith.

"Allons nous," said Lady Lucy, playfully, "allons mes enfants!"

"Oh, for mercy's sake, dear Lucy," rejoined Lady Letitia, "pray let us have no more of this outlandish gibberish; but I pray you let the young folks at once begin their play, without preface or prologue."

"Thy design and intention, sweet sister of mine, displeaseth me not; for be it known, that I also am fully possessed with a most marvellous disposition, a wondrous curiosity for the commencement of the various charms, or mysteries, or incantations of this memorable night, call them by any name you think befitting; and here am I ready and willing to be the lady mistress of the ceremonies to be done and performed—ay, without the fee or reward of even plumb-cake or a single poesy! And now, my merry maids all, for the full and complete execution of the important duties attending my most consequential appointment, we shall soon commence our ceremonies of office, and all the various charms of this night of incantation." Then, with much sprightliness, she added, "But where, oh, where is my wand? my wand—my kingdom for a wand! I can do nothing with effect, unless armed with the insignia of my office."

A servant then came in, and presented a peeled wand or rod, which was framed from a witch-hazel that had grown on the Tyraugh mountains, and had been cut and stript of its bark at the express desire of old Cormac, and was now assumed and wielded with all due and becoming authority.

"Yes, yes, this is comme il faut! this will do. Now I am the most mysterious mistress of these enchanted revels, and this the wand of my stately vocation! Young ladies fair, young lords so gay, hear ye, hear ye all! In full plenitude, potency, and execution of this my office, hear and obey the important injunctions which I have to premise to each and to all of you—[this was expressed with much gaietè du cœur.] Be it then known to you all by these presents, (as an old dotard once upon a time began his will);—but I am not dead, yet my will is this: hear, hear ye all good people and true! and thus I do proclaim, amid all our play and revels to-night, but without sound of trumpet or kettle-drum, that there still remains a charm yet to be consummated, and of such confessed potency too, that this night should not be passed over without giving it a fair trial, and at once putting its efficacy to the test! Having thus premised, it would be but foul play that my young friends should burst in ignorance as to the mode and nature of the charm. Eh! bien donc, mes chers enfants! you then must know, the fair young lady who wishes to recognise her future spouse for life, is to proceed at just this hour to a sequestered lime-kiln, bearing a charmed ball of untwisted cotton thread, and strongly holding the cord, is to fling the ball adown the cavern of the kiln; and upon its having reached the bottom, stoutly to exclaim, 'Who holds the ball?' When this is duly performed, the person who accomplishes it is to retire before midnight to bed; a banquet must be spread, and a mirror in which her fortune shall be read! Now, my gay and merry lasses all, where is to be found that courageous one who dare do this?"

The young ladies all, as if by tacit consent, drew back, dissenting from the proposal. But not so Lady Adelaide, who advanced: "That daring one am I, and I accept your challenge;" seizing at the same time upon the charmed ball of untwisted cotton which Lady Lucy then held in her hand, and of which Lady Adelaide now became the possessor. "I hold now the charm; it shall not perish until at least its efficacy be tried. But remember I go alone!"

"Oh, my dearest, my best beloved Adelaide do not go!—I beseech you that you do not go at this hour of night—at this season of the year! storm and rain may overtake you, and cause you to lament the rashness of your undertaking! In what I have said I wished to raise youthful curiosity, but at the same time I likewise meant to intimidate, but not to encourage the attempt!—Why will you go?"

"Because," rejoined Lady Adelaide, "from the very first I resolved that I would undertake the execution of the charm; and no remonstrance, not even force, shall compel me to relinquish my purpose; call it fate, call it destiny; describe it as rashness; call it e'en what pleaseth thee; it must—it shall be performed!"

"But," observed Lady Lucy, "should your absence be noticed what is then to be done to account for it? What will the Duke say?—what will the Duchess? And you will bring down the united raillery of all the loo, tredrille, primero, and cribbage tables, upon your truant head for this nocturnal adventure of romance!"

"Oh, tell the Duke and Duchess that as they know the gods have made me poetical, that the fit of inspiration was upon me; and now or never! If I were not to obey the impulse my precious verse would perish for ever!"

Adelaide then most sweetly smiling, said: "It boots not what remark may come from the sober dowagers and solemn wig-pated personages at the loo and ombre tables; they will be too much absorbed in their winnings and tricks to think of me. And now I go!"

"Oh stay, I prithee, stay a moment!—just until I tell thee," said Lady Lucy. "For before you go you must be told of what positively and fatally happened in our own family to a kinswoman of mine own, a young lady, upon the Eve of All-Hallows, who——"

"Not for the wide world," said Lady Adelaide, "would I hear another word. If the story, my dear aunt, be amusing or horrific, I pray thee tell it to my young friends, and then I shall have it told me when I return. Now wave thy mystic wand, and like a spirit I vanish.—Prèsto I'm gone!"

Adelaide departed. This young lady was indeed the child of romance, with feelings the most tender and acute; and one who deeply had imbibed the superstitions of the age in which she lived; all of which had chiefly been instilled, even from the very cradle, by the old talkative crone, her quondam nurse; and although possessing a strong understanding, yet still, as the ever constant dropping of water will impress and penetrate the hardest stone, in like manner the tales of superstition unceasingly told, and the numerous attestations of popular faith, did not fail fully to operate on her credulity.

Adelaide alone sallied forth from the ducal towers of Tyrconnel Castle, with deep determination to fulfil the spell of the charmed ball. The moon with pearly radiance shone forth on her fearless enterprise; enthusiastic in this adventure as in every thing which she thought, said, or did, she now boldly advanced to commence the solemn charm; and with firm and unshaken step she proceeded to the accomplishment of her nocturnal visit; while intently she looked around, fully to be assured that no human eye gazed upon the orgies which she was about to perform.

Adelaide then with quickened step approached a lime-kiln. This fabric had been for a lapse of time deserted and disused; its apex was crested with saxifrage, snap-dragon, and foxglove, which told its desolation; and the ivy too, in curling festoons suspended, overhung the passenger, and undulated in the breeze. The autumnal gale in mournful gusts swept, sighing in its course, over hill, and vale, and stream; while the owl hooted her solitary scream as Adelaide reached this deserted pile, now the lonely asylum of the nocturnal bat and wary field-mouse. The kiln had been constructed at the angle of a green knoll, which served as an ascent to it; and by this mount, or hill, Adelaide with facility ascended to the empty crater of the lime-kiln; when duly turning her face to the south she produced an untwisted ball of cotton thread, and firmly holding the end of the cord, or thread, of the ball, she flung the ball, as if a plummet, down the concavity of the kiln; when sounding its depth she ascertained that it had duly reached the bottom, then she undauntedly inquired in a loud and firm tone of voice—"Who holds the ball?" The cotton cord on the instant dropped promptly from her hand, whether by force or fear she knew not; while she thought she heard a voice unknown ascending in hollow tones from the echoing depth beneath, emphatically reply—"I grasp the ball!"

This might have been merely the effect of fear and mental deception, yet still she thought she had heard the awful response. No shape, no form, no figure, met her eye; but the words struck her ear and pierced her heart. Adelaide stood motionless, silent, and pale, as a statue; she had not the power to scream, articulation was totally suspended; and the powers of locomotion too were completely paralized, her imagination became spell-bound, her recollection was fled! At length nature completely overpowered, she fainted; and it was not for some time that she recovered the powers of animation, when all the solemn scene that had so lately occurred appeared to her but as a frightful dream that had passed in review before her deceived imagination while she slumbered in that dreadful swoon.

For some considerable pause of time Adelaide sat motionless upon the sward of the little knoll that adjoined that ominous fabric, where so lately that awful charm, consecrated by the credulity of ages, had been performed.

After much mental exertion Adelaide found upon trial that she had sufficient bodily strength to arise; and now having stood up, she proceeded upon her return to the castle. The moon had retired behind a cloud, when, with a deep sigh, she exclaimed, "Oh, how much I wish that the deed had remained undone, and then my mind would have been at rest! But now I am sadly disquieted, and my heart is sick within me. Oh, it was not well done!"

After a pause she continued—"But what will they all this while think of me at the castle? How shall my absence be accounted for? Why—why do I shudder thus in self-condemnation? This should not have been!"

Thus, in self-crimination, Adelaide vented her contrition, while with trembling fear and step she slowly wended back her wearied way to Tyrconnel Castle.

Still advancing, terror seemed every where to accompany her.

"Horror ubique——simul ipsa silentia terrent!"

The distant murmurs of the Eske uniting with the ocean affrighted her, as did her footsteps,—she thought them not her own; while ever and anon she would stop to listen; but no sounds were heard but those of the adjoining brook brawling[20] over its rocky channel, or the autumnal gale rustling the fallen foliage as it swept its plaintive blast along. At times when partially the wind reposed, and all, for the interval, was in silence lulled, still her mind was not at rest; occasionally she would stop, and seemed to meditate to herself; then would she rehearse the ominous incantation at the kiln, she would raise up her right arm, bend the hand, with thumb and fore-finger conjoined together; next suddenly dip the arm and hand, as when she plumbed the charmed ball adown the mystic concavity of the kiln. When having violently acted this, she would utter a piercing scream, and then awaken from her reverie.

As Adelaide was proceeding onward in her return to the castle, the sky suddenly became deeply darkened, and a thunder-storm arose; the thunder loudly re-echoed through the vaulted heavens, and the vivid lightning-flash preceded each awful peal; then descended torrents of rain, which fell with the plenitude and the force of a water-spout.

"Ah, if I had here a friend, a companion in this my hour of trial, I then would slightly value the tempest that now surrounds me! But the deed was all my own doing, and plaints now are of no avail. So unto the castle with whatever remnant of strength or courage may remain.—This is my only resource!"

All terrified, pale, and her garments deeply drenched with rain, at length Adelaide regained the castle; where, when she had put on fresh attire, forgetful of all the fears and perils which she had encountered, (such and so great are the contradictions of human nature,) that she fully, nevertheless, resolved to abide the full completion of the mysterious charm.

The awful thunder-storm served as a well-timed explanation for the deadly paleness of her countenance as the Lady Adelaide rejoined the social circle. The juvenile party were employed in the various pastimes of the night, in burning the boding nuts, while

Meantime others parted company, north and south, with the rapidity, if not with the force, of a modern Congreve rocket. In others the spark soon expired, while the gentle relict that was left behind, "like Patience on a monument," kept stationary on her ordeal bar of trial, tranquil and serene, until, in expiring embers she blazed, and was no more! The melting of lead, and various other dainty devices followed. All which were now succeeded by the grand finale of a ball, in which minuets, cotillions, and contre-danses followed in course, and were succeeded by a splendid supper.

The supper, which was superb and princely throughout, commenced and ended with delight to all the guests. And while sipping the noble beverage of the grape, pressed and brought from every generous clime, the following erudite discussion upon presages, prophecies, and predictions, occupied the grave and learned portion of the company:—

"Some presages," observed the Duke, "may certainly appear to have been casual, and subsequently adapted to the occasion by the ingenuity of others; but still there are others that appear supported by such a connected mass of evidence, that they can be neither questioned nor denied. Mariana, the famed historian of Spain, (A. D. 1453,) makes mention, in speaking of the tragical end of Don Alvaro, Earl of Luna, 'that it had been foretold to Alvaro that his death would be at Cadahalso, by which he supposed to be meant, a town he had of that name, and therefore he never went thither; but Cadahalso, in Spanish, means a scaffold,' (this prophecy thus 'paltered in a double sense,') for upon the scaffold Alvaro suffered, and there concluded a life eminent in glory."

"And you may recollect, my Lord," said the Duchess, "that George Buchanan, the famed Scottish historian, relates the very remarkable forewarning which James the Fourth of Scotland had in the church of St. Michael, Linlithgow, from an old man of venerable aspect, and clad in blue habiliments. This person forewarned the king from his proceeding in his expedition against England, fore-telling to him that it would prove his ruin. The queen also remonstrated with him against the project of invasion, by acquainting him with the visions and frightful dreams which she nightly encountered. But no warning could avert his destiny. And he fell with a number of his nobility in the ever memorable field of Flodden Sept. 9, 1513."

"There is," said the Duke, "another case in point; it is that of Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, who foretold that his son, Robert Devereux, afterwards Earl of Essex, should never survive his thirty-sixth year; observing at the same time that his father had died at that period of life, and that he would himself die at that age. The death of his son, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the thirty-fourth year of his age, 1567, is a well known and recorded fact."

Here the Duchess rejoined:—"And you may recollect too, my dear Lord, that Mezeray, the historian of France, records, that it had been foretold to Henry the Fourth of France and Navarre, that he should die in a coach; so that upon the least jolt he would cry out, as if he beheld the grave opened ready to swallow him. And it is as well known that this prediction took place, Henry the Fourth having been assassinated in his coach as he was proceeding to the arsenal to consult with the immortal Sully, when he was stabbed by the knife of an assassin, 1610."

"Sully too," rejoined Lady Lucy, "in his admirable memoirs, makes mention of those black presages which, it is but too certain, this unfortunate prince had of his cruel destiny; they were indeed dreadful and surprising to the last degree!"

Lady Adelaide next paid a short tribute to this learned and mystical investigation:—"It may not be amiss," she said, "briefly to notice the prediction of the death of the Duke of Buckingham, as related by Lord Clarendon in his history, and built, as he emphatically expresses it, upon better foundations of credit than usually such discourses are founded.—His account is strikingly remarkable; but to recount the accompanying circumstances would occupy too much time, and seriously intrude on the pleasantry of the company by entering into the awful and appalling detail; I must beg, therefore, to refer those friends who may be desirous to gratify their curiosity on this subject to consult the pages of the noble historiographer. The presages of our poet Dryden are deserving of notice, he was extremely addicted to judicial astrology: upon the birth of his son he took his horoscope, and all his calculations respecting him marvellously were accomplished; and which are too recent in the recollection of those present to render it necessary for me to dwell upon; only to observe, that these astrological calculations were fulfilled with an accuracy almost amounting to mathematical correctness."

It came next to Sir Patricius Placebo's turn to contribute to these ghostly recollections, who began with a stately hem. "I rather think I can notify to this noble company a very remarkable circumstance, and I flatter myself indeed it is one not generally known. It is recorded in the life of the very erudite and estimable scholar, John H. Hottinger, that when he ascended the pulpit of the academy of Basle to make a farewell oration to that society previous to his departure for the city of Leyden, where he had been appointed Professor of the Oriental Languages at the College of Leyden, he observed a line written upon it, which much disturbed him, and surprised the whole auditory, as being prophetical of his death, which happened soon after. The line was from Ovid:—

'Carmina jam moriens, canit exequialia cygnus.'

'The dying swan his fun'ral song doth sing.'

Shortly after this the very learned and accomplished scholar was drowned with part of his family in the river Lemit, in the year 1667. The due application of this celebrated line, and the analogy of the water-bird fore-telling the time and manner of his death—hem!

DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

Yes, doubtless, there is much grave matter for deep reflection in this well-authenticated event."

Lord Glandarah prepared to yield his contribution to the strange topic under discussion. His Lordship had resided nearly all his life upon the continent; he was a Roman Catholic, and this, it was believed, was the disposing reason for his living abroad. He spoke broken English so like a foreigner, that he might have been almost mistaken for one, as has been already observed in a previous chapter. "Gad save my soul, my Lady Duchess, I do remember one of a very remarkable occurrence that happened some few years ago when I was travelling through Normandy. My Lord Roscommon, being then a boy of ten years of age, had preternatural intelligence of his father's death. Gad save my soul, it is the very most extraordinary circumstance to be sure! Your Grace must know that it happened at Caen: one day his Lordship was, as it were, madly extravagant in playing, leaping, getting over the tables, and playing, Gad save my soul! many other wild gambols. He was, sans doubté, wont to be sober, staid, lad enough. Those who saw him exclaimed, 'heaven grant this bodes no ill-luck to him!' In the heat of this extravagant fit he suddenly cried out, 'My father is dead!' And assuremént, Gad save my soul! a fortnight after accounts arrived from Ireland that the Earl of Roscommon was dead! This account was told me, Gad save my soul, by Mr. Knolles, who had been his governor, and at that time with him. And, Gad save my soul! I have often heard my Lord Roscommon's relations affirm this account to be true. Now, Gad save my soul! could any thing be more extraordinary? Sans doute c'est impossible!"

The hour was indeed very late; and the guests arose, and making due obeisance, withdrew. Adelaide, according to the good old fashion, embraced her parents, and retired to her chamber. But she had no sooner lain down to rest than she heartily repented of what she had done. The tempest continued with unabated rage; so much so indeed that the guests departed not from the Castle, but there found a safe retreat from "the pelting of the pitiless storm." The storm still continued to increase; the roaring waves of the Atlantic thundered against the shore, and burst upon the firm foundations of Tyrconnel Castle.

Adelaide's chamber was ever and anon illuminated with brilliant flashes of vivid lightning; and often did she wish the mysterious deed undone!