be able to chase the horse, and sae she would gang and
help him."

If ever Jenny Jervis had been puzzled to account for the conduct of
Sandy Crawford, he was now as much puzzled to account for the change
which had come over her. He thought of the subject without being able
to come to any conclusion, and then thought of it again to as little
purpose as he had done before, till at last, wearied out with vain
conjectures, he flung himself upon his bed in a state of mind not easy
to be described; and when Jenny, who was in no great haste to return,
came in, his heavy breathing told that he was already asleep. On
stealing a glance into the apartment where he was, she saw that he was
still lying with his clothes on, and that his sleep was of that
profound sort which commonly lasts for the night.

Sandy Crawford had fallen asleep, little dreaming of either alarm or
danger; but, about midnight, he was disturbed by an indistinct and
inarticulate sound, which, though it conveyed no meaning to his ear,
was loud enough to awake him. Slowly and heavily he opened his eyes;
but it was not dark, as he expected it to be. On the contrary, a
strange light glimmered around him, and, on turning his head to see
whence it proceeded, he saw in the middle of the floor a spectre,
which might have well appalled the heart of a hero. The ghost of
Howdycraigs, to which his present visiter bore a striking resemblance,
rushed back upon his memory, and he would have trembled, but that he
did not recollect any bad consequences which followed that memorable
event. Thus, in time, even ghosts might fail to terrify, were they to
repeat their visits too often. In the present instance, it were
difficult to say if Sandy was not strengthened for the sight by some
faint hope that this might be a second marriage-making expedition of
the same benevolent spirit, and that it might eventually help him to a
_wife_, the getting of which thing he had begun to regard as no easy
matter.

The ghost of Gairyburn, however, at first bade fair for being as
famous in its day and generation as the ghost of Howdycraigs had been;
and doubtless it had succeeded in a less hazardous enterprise. Like
the other, its head was tied up in a white handkerchief, its body was
carefully wrapped in the folds of an ample winding-sheet. On its feet
it wore white stockings, but no shoes--the absence of which exhibited
a finely-turned ankle to such advantage, that any male onlooker might
have