tment that she was surprised into an
exclamation, "Who has dared to change the pictures?"

All looked up, and those who knew the usual state of the apartment
observed, with surprise, that the picture of Sir William Ashton's father
was removed from its place, and in its stead that of old Sir Malise
Ravenswood seemed to frown wrath and vengeance upon the party assembled
below. The exchange must have been made while the apartments were empty,
but had not been observed until the torches and lights in the sconces
were kindled for the ball. The haughty and heated spirits of the
gentlemen led them to demand an immediate inquiry into the cause of what
they deemed an affront to their host and to themselves; but Lady Ashton,
recovering herself, passed it over as the freak of a crazy wench who was
maintained about the castle, and whose susceptible imagination had been
observed to be much affected by the stories which Dame Gourlay delighted
to tell concerning "the former family," so Lady Ashton named the
Ravenswoods. The obnoxious picture was immediately removed, and the ball
was opened by Lady Ashton, with a grace and dignity which supplied the
charms of youth, and almost verified the extravagant encomiums of the
elder part of the company, who extolled her performance as far exceeding
the dancing of the rising generation.

When Lady Ashton sat down, she was not surprised to find that her
daughter had left the apartment, and she herself followed, eager to
obviate any impression which might have been made upon her nerves by an
incident so likely to affect them as the mysterious transposition of the
portraits. Apparently she found her apprehensions groundless, for she
returned in about an hour, and whispered the bridegroom, who extricated
himself from the dancers, and vanished from the apartment. The
instruments now played their loudest strains; the dancers pursued their
exercise with all the enthusiasm inspired by youth, mirth, and high
spirits, when a cry was heard so shrill and piercing as at once to
arrest the dance and the music. All stood motionless; but when the yell
was again repeated, Colonel Ashton snatched a torch from the sconce,
and demanding the key of the bridal-chamber from Henry, to whom, as
bride's-man, it had been entrusted, rushed thither, followed by Sir
William Ashton and Lady Ashton, and one or two others, near relations
of the family. The bridal guests waited their return in stupified
amazement.

Arrived at