This is another little story, from the Keepsake
of 1828. It was told to me many years
ago, by the late Miss Anna Seward, who,
among other accomplishments that rendered
her an amusing inmate in a country house, had
that of recounting narratives of this sort with
very considerable effect; much greater, indeed,
than any one would be apt to guess from the
style of her written performances. There are
hours and moods when most people are not
displeased to listen to such things; and I have
heard some of the greatest and wisest of my
contemporaries take their share in telling

_August_, 1831.





  The following narrative is given from the pen, so
far as memory permits, in the same character in
which it was presented to the author's ear; nor
has he claim to further praise, or to be more deeply
censured, than in proportion to the good or bad
judgment which he has employed in selecting his
materials, as he has studiously avoided any attempt
at ornament which might interfere with the simplicity
of the tale.

  At the same time it must be admitted, that the
particular class of stories which turns on the marvellous,
possesses a stronger influence when told,
than when committed to print. The volume taken
up at noonday, though rehearsing the same incidents,
conveyed a much more feeble impression,
than is achieved by the voice of the speaker on a
circle of fireside auditors, who hang upon the narrative
as the narrator details the minute incidents
which serve to give it authenticity, and lowers his
voice with an affectation of mystery while he approaches
the fearful and wonderful part. It was
with such advantages that the present writer heard
the following events related, more than twenty
years since, by the celebrated Miss Seward, of
Litchfield, who, to her numerous accomplishments,
added, in a remarkable degree, the power of narrative
in private conversation. In its present form
the tale must necessarily lose all the interest which
was attached to it, by the flexible voice and intelligent
features of the gifted narrator. Yet still,
read aloud, to an undoubting audience by the
doubtful light of the closing evening, or, in silence,
by a decaying taper, and amidst the solitude of a
half-lighted apartment, it may redeem its character
as a good ghost-story. Miss Seward always
affirmed that she had derived her information from
an authentic source, although she suppressed the
names of the two persons chiefly concerned. I will
not avail myself of any particulars I may have since
received concerning the localities of the detail, but
suffer them to rest under the same general description
in which they were first related to me; and,
for the same reason, I will not add to, or diminish
the narrative, by any circumstance, whether more
or less material, but simply rehearse, as I heard it,
a story of supernatural terror.

  About the end of the American war, when the
officers of Lord Cornwallis's army, which surrendered
at York-town, and others, who had been made
prisoners during the impolitic and ill-fated controversy,
were returning to their own country, to relate
their adventures, and repose themselves after
their fatigues; there was amongst them a general
officer, to whom Miss S. gave the name of Browne,
but merely, as I understood, to save the inconvenience
of introducing a nameless agent in the narrative.
He was an officer of merit, as well as a
gentleman of high consideration for family and attainments.

  Some business had carried General Browne upon
a tour through the western counties, when, in the
conclusion of a morning stage, he found himself
in the vicinity of a small country town, which presented
a scene of uncommon beauty, and of a character
peculiarly English.

  The little town, with its stately old church,
whose tower bore testimony to the devotion of
ages long past, lay amidst pastures and corn-fields
of small extent, but bounded and divided with
hedgerow timber of great age and size. There
were few marks of modern improvement. The
environs of the place intimated neither the solitude
of decay, nor the bustle of novelty; the houses
were old, but in good repair; and the beautiful
little river murmured freely on its way to the left
of the town, neither restrained by a dam, nor bordered
by a towing-path.

  Upon a gentle eminence, nearly a mile to the
southward of the town, were seen, amongst many
venerable oaks and tangled thickets, the turrets of
a castle, as old as the walls of York and Lancaster,
but which seemed to have received important alterations
during the age of Elizabeth and her successor.
It had not been a place of great size; but
whatever accommodation it formerly afforded, was,
it must be supposed, still to be obtained within its
walls; at least, such was the inference which General
Browne drew from observing the smoke arise
merrily from several of the ancient wreathed and
carved chimney-stalks. The wall of the park ran
alongside of the highway for two or three hundred
yards; and through the different points by which
the eye found glimpses into the woodland scenery,
it seemed to be well stocked. Other points of
view opened in succession; now a full one, of the
front of the old castle, and now a side glimpse at
its particular towers; the former rich in all the
bizarrerie of the Elizabethan school, while the
simple and solid strength of other parts of the building
seemed to show that they had been raised more
for defence than ostentation.

  Delighted with the partial glimpses which he
obtained of the castle through the woods and glades
by which this ancient feudal fortress was surrounded,
our military traveller was determined to enquire
whether it might not deserve a nearer view,
and whether it contained family pictures or other
objects of curiosity worthy of a stranger's visit;
when, leaving the vicinity of the park, he rolled
through a clean and well-paved street, and stopped
at the door of a well-frequented inn.

  Before ordering horses to proceed on his journey,
General Browne made enquiries concerning
the proprietor of the chateau which had so attracted
his admiration; and was equally surprised and
pleased at hearing in reply a nobleman named,
whom we shall call Lord Woodville. How fortunate!
Much of Browne's early recollections, both
at school and at college, had been connected with
young Woodville, whom, by a few questions, he
now ascertained to be the same with the owner of
this fair domain. He had been raised to the peerage
by the decease of his father a few months before,
and, as the General learned from the landlord,
the term of mourning being ended, was now taking
possession of his paternal estate, in the jovial season
of merry autumn, accompanied by a select party
of friends to enjoy the sports of a country famous
for game.

  This was delightful news to our traveller. Frank
Woodville had been Richard Browne's fag at
Eton, and his chosen intimate at Christ Church;
their pleasures and their tasks had been the same;
and the honest soldier's heart warmed to find his
early friend in possession of so delightful a residence,
and of an estate, as the landlord assured
him with a nod and a wink, fully adequate to maintain
and add to his dignity. Nothing was more
natural than that the traveller should suspend a
journey, which there was nothing to render hurried,
to pay a visit to an old friend under such agreeable

  The fresh horses, therefore, had only the brief
task of conveying the General's travelling carriage
to Woodville Castle. A porter admitted them at
a modern Gothic lodge, built in that style to correspond
with the castle itself, and at the same
time rang a bell to give warning of the approach
of visitors. Apparently the sound of the bell had
suspended the separation of the company, bent on
the various amusements of the morning; for, on
entering the court of the chateau, several young
men were lounging about in their sporting dresses,
looking at, and criticising, the dogs which the
keepers held in readiness to attend their pastime. 
As General Browne alighted, the young lord came
to the gate of the hall, and for an instant gazed, as
at a stranger, upon the countenance of his friend,
on which war, with its fatigues and its wounds, had
made a great alteration. But the uncertainty lasted
no longer than till the visitor had spoken, and the
hearty greeting which followed was such as can
only be exchanged betwixt those who have passed
together the merry days of careless boyhood or
early youth.

  ``If I could have formed a wish, my dear Browne,''
said Lord Woodville, ``it would have been to have
you here, of all men, upon this occasion, which my
friends are good enough to hold as a sort of holiday.
Do not think you have been unwatched during
the years you have been absent from us. I
have traced you through your dangers, your triumphs,
your misfortunes, and was delighted to see
that, whether in victory or defeat, the name of my
old friend was always distinguished with applause.''

  The General made a suitable reply, and congratulated
his friend on his new dignities, and the
possession of a place and domain so beautiful.

``Nay, you have seen nothing of it as yet,'' said
Lord Woodville, ``and I trust you do not mean to
leave us till you are better acquainted with it. It
is true, I confess, that my present party is pretty
large, and the old house, like other places of the
kind, does not possess so much accommodation as
the extent of the outward walls appears to promise. 
But we can give you a comfortable old-fashioned
room, and I venture to suppose that your campaigns
have taught you to be glad of worse quarters.''

  The General shrugged his shoulders, and laughed.
``I presume,'' he said, ``the worst apartment
in your chateau is considerably superior to the
old tobacco-cask, in which I was fain to take up
my night's lodging when I was in the Bush, as the
Virginians call it, with the light corps. There I
lay, like Diogenes himself, so delighted with my
covering from the elements, that I made a vain attempt
to have it rolled on to my next quarters;
but my commander for the time would give way
to no such luxurious provision, and I took farewell
of my beloved cask with tears in my eyes.''

  ``Well, then, since you do not fear your quarters,''
said Lord Woodville, ``you will stay with
me a week at least. Of guns, dogs, fishing-rods,
flies, and means of sport by sea and land, we have
enough and to spare: you cannot pitch on an
amusement but we will find the means of pursuing
it. But if you prefer the gun and pointers, I will
go with you myself, and see whether you have
mended your shooting since you have been amongst
the Indians of the back settlements.''

  The General gladly accepted his friendly host's
proposal in all its points. After a morning of
manly exercise, the company met at dinner, where
it was the delight of Lord Woodville to conduce
to the display of the high properties of his recovered
friend, so as to recommend him to his guests,
most of whom were persons of distinction. He led
General Browne to speak of the scenes he had
witnessed; and as every word marked alike the
brave officer and the sensible man, who retained
possession of his cool judgment under the most imminent
dangers, the company looked upon the
soldier with general respect, as on one who had
proved himself possessed of an uncommon portion
of personal courage; that attribute, of all others, of
which every body desires to be thought possessed.

  The day at Woodville Castle ended as usual in
such mansions. The hospitality stopped within
the limits of good order; music, in which the
young lord was a proficient, succeeded to the circulation
of the bottle: cards and billiards, for those
who preferred such amusements, were in readiness:
but the exercise of the morning required
early hours, and not long after eleven o'clock the
guests began to retire to their several apartments.

  The young lord himself conducted his friend,
General Browne, to the chamber destined for him,
which answered the description he had given of it,
being comfortable, but old-fashioned. The bed
was of the massive form used in the end of the
seventeenth century, and the curtains of faded silk,
heavily trimmed with tarnished gold. But then
the sheets, pillows, and blankets looked delightful
to the campaigner, when he thought of his ``mansion,
the cask.'' There was all air of gloom in the
tapestry hangings, which, with their worn-out
graces, curtained the walls of the little chamber,
and gently undulated as the autumnal breeze found
its way through the ancient lattice-window, which
pattered and whistled as the air gained entrance. 
The toilet too, with its mirror, turbaned after
the manner of the beginning of the century, with a
coiffure of murrey-coloured silk, and its hundred
strange-shaped boxes, providing for arrangements
which had been obsolete for more than fifty years,
had an antique, and in so far a melancholy, aspect. 
But nothing could blaze more brightly and cheerfully
than the two large wax candles; or if aught could
rival them, it was the flaming bickering fagots in
the chimney, that sent at once their gleam and their
warmth through the snug apartment; which, notwithstanding
the general antiquity of its appearance,
was not wanting in the least convenience,
that modem habits rendered either necessary or

  ``This is an old-fashioned sleeping apartment,
General,'' said the young lord; ``but I hope you
find nothing that makes you envy your old tobacco-cask.''

  ``I am not particular respecting my lodgings,''
replied the General; ``yet were I to make any choice,
I would prefer this chamber by many degrees, to
the gayer and more modem rooms of your family
mansion. Believe me, that when I unite its modern
air of comfort with its venerable antiquity,
and recollect that it is your lordship's property, I
shall feel in better quarters here, than if I were in
the best hotel London could afford.''

  ``I trust---I have no doubt---that you will find
yourself as comfortable as I wish you, my dear
General,'' said the young nobleman; and once more
bidding his guest good-night, he shook him by the
band, and withdrew.

  The General once more looked round him, and
internally congratulating himself on his return to
peaceful life, the comforts of which were endeared
by the recollection of the hardships and dangers
he had lately sustained, undressed himself, and
prepared for a luxurious night's rest.

  Here, contrary to the custom of this species of
tale, we leave the General in possession of his apartment
until the next morning.

  The company assembled for breakfast at an early
hour, but without the appearance of General
Browne, who seemed the guest that Lord Woodville
was desirous of honouring above all whom his
hospitality had assembled around him. He more
than once expressed surprise at the General's absence,
and at length sent a servant to make enquiry
after him. The man brought back information that
General Browne had been walking abroad since an
early hour of the morning, in defiance of the weather,
which was misty and ungenial.

  ``The custom of a soldier,''---said the young
nobleman to his friends; ``many of them acquire
habitual vigilance, and cannot sleep after the early
hour at which their duty usually commands them
to be alert.''

  Yet the explanation which Lord Woodville thus
offered to the company seemed hardly satisfactory
to his own mind, and it was in a fit of silence and
abstraction that he waited the return of the General.
It took place near an hour after the breakfast
bell had rung. He looked fatigued and feverish.
His hair, the powdering and arrangement of
which was at this time one of the most important
occupations of a man's whole day, and marked his
fashion as much as, in the present time, the tying
of a cravat, or the want of one, was dishevelled,
uncurled, void of powder, and dank with dew. His
clothes were huddled on with a careless negligence,
remarkable in a military man, whose real or supposed
duties are usually held to include some attention
to the toilet; and his looks were haggard
and ghastly in a peculiar degree.

  ``So you have stolen a march upon us this morning,
my dear General,'' said Lord Woodville; ``or
you have not found your bed so much to your mind
as I had hoped and you seemed to expect. How
did you rest last night?''

  ``Oh, excellently well! remarkably well! never
better ill my life''---said General Browne rapidly,
and yet with an air of embarrassment which was
obvious to his friend. He then hastily swallowed
a cup of tea, and, neglecting or refusing whatever
else was offered, seemed to fall into a fit of abstraction.

  ``You will take the gun to-day, General?'' said
his friend and host, but had to repeat the question
twice ere he received the abrupt answer, ``No, my
lord; I am sorry I cannot have the honour of
spending another day with your lordship; my post
horses are ordered, and will be here directly.''

  All who were present showed surprise, and Lord
Woodville immediately replied, ``Post horses, my
good friend! what can you possibly want with
them, when you promised to stay with me quietly
for at least a week?''

  ``I believe,'' said the General, obviously much
embarrassed, ``that I might, in the pleasure of my
first meeting with your lordship, have said something
about stopping here a few days; but I have
since found it altogether impossible.''

  ``That is very extraordinary,'' answered the
young nobleman. ``You seemed quite disengaged
yesterday, and you cannot have had a summons
to-day; for our post has not come up from the town,
and therefore you cannot have received any letters.''

  General Browne, without giving any further
explanation, muttered something of indispensable
business, and insisted on the absolute necessity of
his departure in a manner which silenced all opposition
on the part of his host, who saw that his resolution
was taken, and forbore all further importunity.

  ``At least, however,'' he said, ``permit me, my
dear Browne, since go you will or must, to show
you the view from the terrace, which the mist, that
is now rising, will soon display.''

  He threw open a sash-window, and stepped down
upon the terrace as he spoke. The General followed
him mechanically, but seemed little to attend
to what his host was saying, as, looking across an
extended and rich prospect, he pointed out the
different objects worthy of observation. Thus they
moved on till Lord Woodville had attained his
purpose of drawing his guest entirely apart from
the rest of the company, when, turning round upon
him with an air of great solemnity, he addressed
him thus:

  ``Richard Browne, my old and very dear friend,
we are now alone. Let me conjure you to answer
me upon the word of a friend, and the honour of a
soldier. How did you in reality rest during last

  ``Most wretchedly indeed, my lord,'' answered
the General, in the same tone of solemnity;---``so
miserably, that I would not run the risk of such a
second night, not only for all the lands belonging
to this castle, but for all the country which I see
from this elevated point of view.''

  ``This is most extraordinary,'' said the young
lord, as if speaking to himself; ``then there must
be something in the reports concerning that apartment.''
Again turning to the General, he said,
``For God's sake, my dear friend, be candid with
me, and let me know the disagreeable particulars
which have befallen you under a roof, where, with
consent of the owner, you should have met nothing
save comfort.''

  The General seemed distressed by this appeal,
and paused a moment before he replied. ``My dear
lord,'' he at length said, ``what happened to me
last night is of a nature so peculiar and so unpleasant,
that I could hardly bring myself to detail it
even to your lordship, were it not that, independent
of my wish to gratify any request of yours, I
think that sincerity on my part may lead to some
explanation about a circumstance equally painful
and mysterious. To others, the communication I
am about to make, might place me in the light of
a weak-minded, superstitious fool, who suffered his
own imagination to delude and bewilder him; but
you have known me in childhood and youth, and
will not suspect me of having adopted in manhood
the feelings and frailties from which my early years
were free.'' Here he paused, and his friend replied:

  ``Do not doubt my perfect confidence in the
truth of your communication, however strange it
may be,'' replied Lord Woodville; ``I know your
firmness of disposition too well, to suspect you
could be made the object of imposition, and am
aware that your honour and your friendship will
equally deter you from exaggerating whatever you
may have witnessed.''

  ``Well then,'' said the General, ``I will proceed
with my story as well as I can, relying upon your
candour; and yet distinctly feeling that I would rather
face a battery than recall to my mind the odious
recollections of last night.''

  He paused a second time, and then perceiving
that Lord Woodville remained silent and in an
attitude of attention, he commenced, though not
without obvious reluctance, the history of his night
adventures in the Tapestried Chamber.

  ``I undressed and went to bed, so soon as your
lordship left me yesterday evening; but the wood
in the chimney, which nearly fronted my bed,
blazed brightly and cheerfully, and, aided by a
hundred exciting recollections of my childhood and
youth, which had been recalled by the unexpected
pleasure of meeting your lordship, prevented me
from falling immediately asleep. I ought, however,
to say, that these reflections were all of a pleasant
and agreeable kind, grounded on a sense of having
for a time exchanged the labour, fatigues, and
dangers of my profession, for the enjoyments of a
peaceful life, and the reunion of those friendly and
affectionate ties, which I had torn asunder at the
rude summons of war.

  ``While such pleasing reflections were stealing
over my mind, and gradually lulling me to slumber,
I was suddenly aroused by a sound like that
of the rustling of a silken gown, and the tapping
of a pair of high-heeled shoes, as if a woman were
walking in the apartment. Ere I could draw the
curtain to see what the matter was, the figure of a
little woman passed between the bed and the fire. 
The back of this form was turned to me, and I
could observe, from the shoulders and neck, it was
that of an old woman, whose dress was an old-fashioned
gown, which, I think, ladies call a sacque;
that is, a sort of robe completely loose in the body,
but gathered into broad plaits upon the neck and
shoulders, which fall down to the ground, and terminate
in a species of train.

  ``I thought the intrusion singular enough, but
never harboured for a moment the idea that what
I saw was any thing more than the mortal form
of some old woman about the establishment, who
had a fancy to dress like her grandmother, and who,
having perhaps (as your lordship mentioned that
you were rather straitened for room) been dislodged
from her chamber for my accommodation,
had forgotten the circumstance, and returned by
twelve to her old haunt. Under this persuasion
I moved myself in bed and coughed a little, to make
the intruder sensible of my being in possession of
the premises.---She turned slowly round, but, gracious
heaven! my lord, what a countenance did
she display to me! There was no longer any
question what she was, or any thought of her being
a living being. Upon a face which wore the fixed
features of a corpse, were imprinted the traces of
the vilest and most hideous passions which had
animated her while she lived. The body of some
atrocious criminal seemed to have been given up
from the grave, and the soul restored from the
penal fire, in order to form, for a space, an union
with the ancient accomplice of its guilt. I started
up in bed, and sat upright, supporting myself on
my palms, as I gazed on this horrible spectre. The
hag made, as it seemed, a single and swift stride
to the bed where I lay, and squatted herself down
upon it, in precisely the same attitude which I had
assumed in the extremity of horror, advancing her
diabolical countenance within half a yard of mine,
with a grin which seemed to intimate the malice
and the derision of an incarnate fiend.''

  Here General Browne stopped, and wiped from
his brow the cold perspiration with which the recollection
of his horrible vision had covered it.

  ``My lord,'' he said, ``I am no coward. I have
been in all the mortal dangers incidental to my
profession, and I may truly boast, that no man ever
knew Richard Browne dishonour the sword he
wears; but in these horrible circumstances, under
the eyes, and, as it seemed, almost in the grasp of
an incarnation of an evil spirit, all firmness forsook
me, all manhood melted from me like wax in the
furnace, and I felt my hair individually bristle. 
The current of my life-blood ceased to flow, and I
sank back in a swoon, as very a victim to panic
terror as ever was a village girl, or a child of ten
years old. How long I lay in this condition I can-
not pretend to guess.

  ``But I was roused by the castle clock striking
one, so loud that it seemed as if it were in the very
room. It was some time before I dared open my
eyes, lest they should again encounter the horrible
spectacle. When, however, I summoned courage
to look up, she was no longer visible. My first
idea was to pull my bell, wake the servants, and
remove to a garret or a hay-loft, to be ensured
against a second visitation. Nay, I will confess the
truth, that my resolution was altered, not by the
shame of exposing myself, but by the fear that, as
the bell-cord hung by the chimney, I might in
making my way to it, be again crossed by the
fiendish hag, who, I figured to myself, might be
still lurking about some corner of the apartment.

  ``I will not pretend to describe what hot and
cold fever-fits tormented me for the rest of the
night, through broken sleep, weary vigils, and that
dubious state which forms the neutral ground between
them. An hundred terrible objects appeared
to haunt me; but there was the great difference
betwixt the vision which I have described, and
those which followed, that I knew the last to be
deceptions of my own fancy and over-excited

  ``Day at last appeared, and I rose from my bed
ill in health, and humiliated in mind. I was ashamed
of myself as a man and a soldier, and still
more so, at feeling my own extreme desire to escape
from the haunted apartment, which, however, conquered
all other considerations; so that, huddling
on my clothes with the most careless haste, I made
my escape from your lordship's mansion, to seek
in the open air some relief to my nervous system,
shaken as it was by this horrible rencounter with
a visitant, for such I must believe her, from the
other world. Your lordship has now heard the
cause of my discomposure, and of my sudden desire
to leave your hospitable castle. In other places I
trust we may often meet; but God protect me from
ever spending a second night under that roof!''

  Strange as the General's tale was, he spoke with
such a deep air of conviction, that it cut short all
the usual commentaries which are made on such
stories. Lord Woodville never once asked him if
he was sure he did not dream of the apparition, or
suggested any of the possibilities by which it is
fashionable to explain supernatural appearances, as
wild vagaries of the fancy, or deceptions of the
optic nerves. On the contrary, he seemed deeply
impressed with the truth and reality of what he had
heard; and, after a considerable pause, regretted,
with much appearance of sincerity, that his early
friend should in his house have suffered so severely.

  ``I am the more sorry for your pain, my dear
Browne,'' he continued, ``that it is the unhappy,
though most unexpected, result of an experiment
of my own. You must know, that for my father
and grandfather's time, at least, the apartment
which was assigned to you last night, had been
shut on account of reports that it was disturbed by
supernatural sights and noises. When I came, a
few weeks since, into possession of the estate, I
thought the accommodation, which the castle afforded
for my friends, was not extensive enough
to permit the inhabitants of the invisible world to
retain possession of a comfortable sleeping apartment.
I therefore caused the Tapestried Chamber,
as we call it, to be opened; and, without destroying
its air of antiquity, I had such new articles of
furniture placed in it as became the modern times. 
Yet as the opinion that the room was haunted very
strongly prevailed among the domestics, and was
also known in the neighbourhood and to many of
my friends, I feared some prejudice might be entertained
by the first occupant of the Tapestried
Chamber, which might tend to revive the evil report
which it had laboured under, and so disappoint
my purpose of rendering it an useful part of the
house. I must confess, my dear Browne, that your
arrival yesterday, agreeable to me for a thousand
reasons besides, seemed the most favourable opportunity
of removing the unpleasant rumours which
attached to the room, since your courage was indubitable,
and your mind free of any pre-occupation
on the subject. I could not, therefore, have
chosen a more fitting subject for my experiment.''

  ``Upon my life,'' said General Browne, somewhat
hastily, ``I am infinitely obliged to your
lordship---very particularly indebted indeed. I am
likely to remember for some time the consequences
of the experiment, as your lordship is pleased to
call it.''

  ``Nay, now you are unjust, my dear friend,''
said Lord Woodville. ``You have only to reflect
for a single moment, in order to be convinced that
I could not augur the possibility of the pain to
which you have been so unhappily exposed. I was
yesterday morning a complete sceptic on the subject
of supernatural appearances. Nay, I am sure
that had I told you what was said about that room,
those very reports would have induced you, by
your own choice, to select it for your accommodation.
It was my misfortune, perhaps my error,
but really cannot be termed my fault, that you
have been afflicted so strangely.''

  ``Strangely indeed!'' said the General, resuming
his good temper; ``and I acknowledge that I have
no right to be offended with your lordship for
treating me like what I used to think myself---a
man of some firmness and courage.---But I see my
post horses are arrived, and I must not detain your
lordship from your amusement.''

  ``Nay, my old friend,'' said Lord Woodville,
since you cannot stay with us another day, which,
indeed, I can no longer urge, give me at least half
an hour more. You used to love pictures, and I
have a gallery of portraits, some of them by Vandyke,
representing ancestry to whom this property
and castle formerly belonged. I think that several
of them will strike you as possessing merit.''

  General Browne accepted the invitation, though
somewhat unwillingly. It was evident he was not
to breathe freely or at ease till he left Woodville
Castle far behind him. He could not refuse his
friend's invitation, however; and the less so, that
he was a little ashamed of the peevishness which
he had displayed towards his well-meaning entertainer.

  The General, therefore, followed Lord Woodville
through several rooms, into a long gallery
hung with pictures, which the latter pointed out
to his guest, telling the names, and giving some
account of the personages whose portraits presented
themselves in progression. General Browne
was but little interested in the details which these
accounts conveyed to him. They were, indeed, of
the kind which are usually found in an old family
gallery. Here, was a cavalier who had ruined the
estate in the royal cause; there, a fine lady who
had reinstated it by contracting a match with a
wealthy Roundhead. There, hung a gallant who
had been in danger for corresponding with the
exiled Court at Saint Germain's; here, one who
had taken arms for William at the Revolution; and
there, a third that had thrown his weight alternately
into the scale of whig and tory.

  While Lord Woodville was cramming these
words into his guest's car, ``against the stomach
of his sense,'' they gained the middle of the gallery,
when he beheld General Browne suddenly
start, and assume an attitude of the utmost, surprise,
not unmixed with fear, as his eyes were
caught and suddenly riveted by a portrait of an
old lady in a sacque, the fashionable dress of the
end of the seventeenth century.

  ``There she is!'' he exclaimed; ``there she is
in form and features, though inferior in demoniac
expression to the accursed hag who visited me
last night!''

  ``If that be the case,'' said the young nobleman,
there can remain no longer any doubt of the
horrible reality of your apparition. That is the
picture of a wretched ancestress of mine, of whose
crimes a black and fearful catalogue is recorded in
a family history in my charter-chest. The recital
of them would be too horrible; it is enough to
say, that in yon fatal apartment incest and unnatural
murder were committed. I will restore
it to the solitude to which the better judgment of
those who preceded me had consigned it; and never
shall any one, so long as I can prevent it, be
exposed to a repetition of the supernatural horrors
which could shake such courage as yours.''

  Thus the friends, who had met with such glee,
parted in a very different mood; Lord Woodville
to command the Tapestried Chamber to be unmantled,
and the door built up; and General Browne
to seek in some less beautiful country, and with
some less dignified friend, forgetfulness of the
painful night which he had passed in Woodville