uggested to my schoolfellow that he should also break
loose one night and accompany me to Rownam to see "The White Lady." It
was, however, of no use. Much as he would have liked to have seen a
ghost in broad daylight, it was quite another matter at night, to say
nothing of running the risk of being caught trespassing by that
inveterate enemy, Sir E.C. At length, finding that neither persuasion,
bribery, nor taunts of cowardice had any effect on my schoolfellow,
who could not decide which appearance would be the more appalling,
for,--he assured me I should be certain to encounter either one or the
other--the White Lady, or the Laird Deil,--I gave up all further
effort to induce him to accompany me, and made up my mind to go to
Rownam avenue alone.

Biding my opportunity, and waiting till my father was safely out of
the way,--on a visit to Greenock, where some business transaction
would oblige him to remain for some days,--I climbed out of my bedroom
window, when I deemed the rest of the household to be sound asleep,
scudded swiftly across the fields, and, making short work of the lofty
wall that formed the southernmost boundary of the Rownam estates,
quickly made my way to the avenue. It was an ideal Sunday night in
August, and it seemed as if all nature participated in the Sabbath
abstraction from noise and work. Hardly a sound broke the exquisite
silence of the woods. At times, overcome with the delightful sensation
of freedom, I paused, and, raising my eyes to the starry heavens,
drank in huge draughts of the pure country air, tainted only with the
sweet smell of newly mown hay, and the scent of summer flowers. I
became intoxicated, delirious, and in transports of joy threw myself
on the soft mossy ground, and, baring my throat and chest, bathed
myself in the moonbeams' kisses. Then, picking myself slowly up, I
performed the maddest capers, and, finally sobering down, continued my
course. Every now and again fancying I detected the stealthy footsteps
of a keeper, I hid behind a tree, where I remained till I was quite
assured I had been mistaken, and that no one was about. How long I
dallied I do not know, but it must have been fully one o'clock before
I arrived at the outskirts of the avenue, and, advancing eagerly,
ensconced myself in my favourite sanctuary, the hollow oak. All was
hushed and motionless, and, as I gazed into the gloom, I became
conscious, for the first time in my life, of a sensation of eeriness.
Th