ide of the wastcote must be made a crosse."--_Discoverie of
Witchcraft_, by Reginald Scott, 1584.

PART SECOND.

On the verge of the Castle Clough, a deep and winding dingle, once
shaded with venerable oaks, are the small remains of the Castle of
Hapton, the seat of its ancient lords, and, till the erection of Hapton
Tower, the occasional residence of the De la Leghs and Townleys. Hapton
Tower is now destroyed to its foundation. It was a large square
building, and about a hundred years ago presented the remains of three
cylindrical towers with conical basements. It also appears to have had
two principal entrances opposite to each other, with a thorough lobby
between, and seems not to have been built in the usual form,--that of a
quadrangle. It was erected about the year 1510, and was inhabited until
1667. The family-name of the nobleman--for such he appears to have
been--of whom the following story is told, we have no means of
ascertaining. That he was an occasional resident or visitor at the Tower
is but surmise. During the period of these dark transactions we find
that the mansion was inhabited by Jane Assheton, relict of Richard
Townley, who died in the year 1637. Whoever he might be, the following
horrible event, arising out of this superstition, attaches to his
memory. Whether it can be attributed to the operations of a mind just
bordering on insanity, and highly wrought upon by existing
delusions,--or must be classed amongst the proofs, so abundantly
furnished by all believers in the reality of witchcraft and demoniacal
possession, our readers must determine as we unfold the tale.

Lord William had seen, and had openly vowed to win, the proud maiden of
Bernshaw Tower. He did win her, but he did not woo her. A dark and
appalling secret was connected with their union, which we shall briefly
develop.

Lady Sibyl, "the proud maiden of Bernshaw," was from her youth the
creature of impulse and imagination--a child of nature and romance. She
roved unchecked through the green valleys and among the glens and
moorlands of her native hills; every nook and streamlet was associated
with some hidden thought "too deep for tears," until Nature became her
god,--the hills and fastnesses, the trackless wilds and mountains, her
companions. With them alone she held communion; and as she watched the
soft shadows and the white clouds take their quiet path upon the hills,
she beheld in them the symbols of her own ideas,--the