n the
pair, in silence; and then said in a tone so solemn it was almost
sepulchral, "This very day, nearly a century and a half ago, Sir Richard
Raby was beheaded for being true to his rightful king--"

"Eh, dear poor gentleman! so now a walks." It was Janet who edged in
this--

"And," continued the gentleman, loftily ignoring the comment, "they say
that on this night such of the Rabys as died Catholics hold high mass in
the church, and the ladies walk three times round the churchyard; twice
with their veils down, once with bare faces, and great eyes that glitter
like stars."

"I wouldn't like to see the jades," quavered Abel: "their ladyships I
mean, axing their pardon."

"Nor I!" said Janet, with a great shudder.

"It would not be good for you," suggested the Squire; "for the first
glance from those dead and glittering eyes strikes any person of the
lower orders dumb, the second, blind; the third, dead. So I'm INFORMED.
Therefore--LET ME ADVISE YOU NEVER TO GO NEAR CAIRNHOPE OLD CHURCH AT
NIGHT."

"Not I, sir," said the simple woman.

"Nor your children: unless you are very tired of them."

"Heaven forbid, sir! But oh, sir, we thought it might be a warning
like."

"To whom?"

"Why, sir, th' old Squire lies there; and heaps more of your folk: and
so Abel here was afear'd--but you are the best judge; we be no scholars.
Th' old church warn't red-hot from eend to eend for naught: that's
certain."

"Oh it is me you came to warn?" said Raby, and his lip curled.

"Well, sir," (mellifluously), "we thought you had the best right to
know."

"My good woman," said the warned, "I shall die when my time comes. But
I shall not hurry myself, for all the gentlemen in Paradise, nor all the
blackguards upon earth."

He spake, and sipped his port with one hand, and waved them superbly
back to their village with the other.

But, when they were gone, he pondered.

And the more he pondered, the further he got from the prosaic but
singular fact.

CHAPTER II.

In the old oak dining-room, where the above colloquy took place, hung
a series of family portraits. One was of a lovely girl with oval face,
olive complexion, and large dark tender eyes: and this was the gem of
the whole collection; but it conferred little pleasure on the spectator,
owing to a trivial circumstance--it was turned with its face to the
wall; and all that met the inquiring eye was an inscription on the
canvas, not intended to be laudatory.