823 H2.93 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/hauntedcastleorcOOunse THE Haunted Castle ; ox, The Child of Misfortune . A GOTHIC TALE. 1 am thy father’s fpirit $ Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night , And, for the day, confin’d to faft in fires, ’Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg’d away. S H AK E ST E A R Ei tlanDon : Printed by T. Maiden, .9 btrbcume- FOR ANN LEMOINE, WHITE-ROSE-COURT, COLEMAN- STREET, AND SOLD BY T. HURST, PATERNOSTER-ROW. [ Price $ix pence.'] / ( THE haunted castle. T 1 ^. dirconrolafe Julian, expelled from the afyiurfl which had o • '-re his infancy, without fortune or friends, and only a few , UCa * ln P oc ket, with fome neceffary linen, and no other guar - dian tnan his integrity, nor other companion than his horfe, fet out u P on a lon S and doubtful journey. As he paffed L- raw ,’ to go out, an old domeftic of the family faluted * * no ” in S he was taking his departure for good, crolTed himfclf and wifhed him the moft profperous adventures. He re- t .irned the oW fenranfs affe&ionate regard, and obferved, that few feared to own themfelves the friends of the unfortunate. “ Ah \ t-ndrin, “ that I fhould live thus to fee the dav, when the gallant Julian, the adopted and beloved of my old mafter, f * turned out of doors. Alas ! an old man’s blefnng is all I have to give, and that I mod: freely bellow. Oh, may Heaven,’* he ad- ded, with uplifted hands, “ direft your feet from ail falie friends, ^ r gh a intnca , le mazes oF thi * deceitful world j and, for this a , Rd m °rtificatioM, pour its balmy comforts on r r ea * * ee |> * replied Julian, “ the value of your blef- mg ; and may your declining years glide on in peace ; and Heaven, m its own good time, receive your breath without a figh. Farewell,, u^nn. As he fpurred his horfe, he {tumbled over a (tone, which r uT h ' S 5 ead, . and P u31 l, P the reins 5 but, juft as he fet tfw.r nf°,h ed r °n, nd a ?f in , at the ° id fervarn > and U P to a Particular waved his h C * He fighed 5 and, looking again at Cudrin, aved his h.nd as a parting farewell, and, as if Eying from re- moment ^ Ulred on ids horfe, and was out of fight in a himH^ U tV a8 Uncertain * his fodden difmifTal had not allowed nnlv I ° f ° rm an n. plan * and the mali g n ance of his fate had e ve^ that had ^ . accom P ]i{b > which was to fly from every where h U t ^ 7, f ffed ^ 1S P Ioi P^ous days, and flicker himfelf where he was utterly unknown. Wrapt up in thought, and in- to h,s c , ourie ’ he ieft to i,is h ° rfe the ch ° 5ce the road, only now and then, when impelled by fome greater agita- tion of mmd, he (purred him on to a brilker pace g S gerous'fitua^on^ M !l roUg . ht Julian t0 a fenfe of his da "‘ dhH Jhn / fo [ th ^ r woods of Suabia abounded with a ban- horrid excefl^Vb 6 d ' fgUlf ? °/ Pand °urs, committed the moft life /trim cV its f WaS tluc ’ r he bad httle to l°f e > and though his- lire, .tript of its former com torts, feemed of little value vet the i voluntary defire of it induced him to- be. careful of whaAe de- A %. 4 THE HAUNTED CASTLE, pi't'd. He rode on forne time over an open plain, which he pre- ftntd to the dark recedes of the fore ft. The eyt-idif* had advan- ced two he iris, when, by the light of the moon, he perceived an humbie habitation. As he approached it, he difcovered a little cabin by the fide of the road, to which the fa fh ion of the times had given the name of inn. This place brought to Julian's recol- lection, that he had not broke his faft that day ; therefore, going in, he alighted, and following the holt’s daughter into the kitchen, 01 dei ed an omelet of eggs and a quarter of a goofe for his fupper. His young landlady applied hcrieli very readily to get him his fupper, and hunger was the fauce . that gave it a relifh. After 1 upper, he drank half a pint of mufcadel ; and, not being inclined for company, called his hoft to (hew him where he was to deep. The man was profufely eloquent in praife of his houfe, while he concluded him up a. ladder in:o the room where he was to deep. Julian, brought up amidft the fplendor of fuperior ranks, foundbut little to admire in this apartment. He was, however, conftrained by neceffity to remain there ; but deep not immediately overcoming the anxiety of his mind, he opened the lattice, to contemplate the moon, which was near its tuli, and (hone juft oppofite to him with peculiar orightnefs. While he was amufing himfelf with his thoughts of futurity, his cujiofity was awakened by the found of human voices in the front of the houfe. Sufpicious of the fequel, he felt about his room for the opening to get out, when, finding the ladder removed, he groped about till he found a fquare hole, which led into a long gallery : here liftenihg, he heard him felt minutely defcribed, with inquiries whether he had been feen by any belides the people of the inn. For a moment a gleam of joy took pofleffior. of his foul, for he vainly flattered himfelf that Count Wartenburg had by iome mi- racle relented, and fent to require his return. Filled with this im- piobable idea, he went to the lattice, to fee if he could fpeak to thefe inquirers. This window looked into a garden, when, in that ciiticai moment, he difeoverved among them a confidential fervant of Calheim, Baron Elailbron’s fon. Julian, convinced that no good could flow from that quarter, drew in his head before he was difcovered, and underftood, by their ciiicourfe, that they had entered the houfe. As It was of confequence to him to dilcover their defign in purfuing him thus, he liftened in a coiner where he was fafe from being feen, and, iooking through a chink, could have a good view of the party. One of them, as was laid before, had been a fervant of Caiheim’s, and was in company with two others, whofe countenance were truly diabolical. I hey were leated with the landlord and his daughter found a table, with liquor be- fore them ; but they feemed more intent on bufinefs than eating, and weie feemingly in a very deep ccuiultation. Now and then i heir difeourfe was carried on fo low, that they feemed to flmn the iiiier inii ear of night; yet lo intent was J N uhan upon unravelling their plot, that every accent met his ear. THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 5 “ Why, I fay," vehemently averted the footman, “ money fhal! not be wanting. See this bag 5 here is plenty of gold ; and, if this will not content you, you lhall have more: enough to make your old age comfortable, and buy your pretty daughter a good hufband. And all tor what ? Body of me ! for nothing but hold- ing your tongue. We don’t want your afliftance ; thefe gentle- men know their trade too well to require your help.” 4< But if it (hould be difcovered ?’* faid the hoft, (eyeing the purfe.) “ How the devil (hould that be? We mult be lilenr for our own fakes j and dead men tell no tales.” <( But how fhall I anfwer it to my confcience?” “ Pho ! you can afford to purchafe abfolution : your confeffor and you will let that to rights, never fear.” From the impetuofity of their difcourfe, Julian found he had not a moment to lofe. He therefore immediately withdrew into his own place. He did not confult long what was to be done ; ef- C 3 pe was the mod neccffary motion ; and, as the cabin was but one low ftory above the ground, he made his way through the lattice, and came fafeiy to the ground ; then dealing through the yard, not daring to take his horfe, he left the precin&s of the cabin with fpeed and trepidation. He flew with all fpeed through the valley, and by the dawn of next morning had reached a thick foreft. Sheltered by the friendly (hade of the thickeft part of it, he afeended a tall tree, whofe luxuriant foliage would have effectu- ally fereened him from view, had his enemies purfued him thither. Excefiive fatigue brought with it its own cure ; and he loft all his cares, his anxieties, and Ins difappointments, in a profound fleep 3 nor did he awake till the fun darted his meridian beam through the verdant canopy. In the nrft moment of his waking, the novelty of his lodging, and the ftrangenefs of the feene around, made him fancy himf'eif ftili in a dieam. But foon the painful incidents of the preceding day crowded on his recolleCtion ; and the care of an exlftence, which the morning before he had contemned, now became his ftudy. With pain he refleCled that he had no weapon to defend himfelf with; for having, when he Lid down on the bed, taken off his fword, in the hurry of his elcape he forgot to take it with him. He therefore cut up as large a club as he could manage with his pocket knife, and purfued his way through the narrow parts of the foreft, uncertain where they would lead him ; his only point being to get at a diftance from his enemies, to evade their fearch. By evening he came to the verge of another large plain, on which he perceived feveral fcattered cottages, and which feemed terminated by another fuch foieft as that through which he had paffed. Tired with his long walk, and faint with falling the whole day, he yet dared not to venture into the plain till evening ; when palling feveral cottages, which leemed to have more company in them than he chofe to dilclofe himlelf to, he at laft faw one who had no other inmate at that time than an old woman. He rapped at the door, and requefted the old dame to give him a fup of milk. 6 the haunted castle, “ Aye, that I will," raid (he. « God blebs (hat fweet face it a long day’s fport. Shall I i , ... me. ■ looks it you were very weary with a i AtlA> a > r brmg your honour a dice of my poor 5/ ^ fpor 5: ShaJJ 1 the milk?” « If y OU p i ea p e 7 P d ? ry - br ° wn bread Wlth more acceptable.” P * / S d mother j it never could be benevojent; hoftafc was ddigS^^nd ' " prVd !*! >eral, 3 r » that hi * more, whieh he refufed • bift remipftft him to llave /brne loaf to piit in his pocket IJ 9 ■ ^ however, a piece of the accompanied with a piece’of mone* 10 ! ^ * miiJj on of thanks, though he fcarcelv knew tn l 7? ‘ le p 0Ce more pet forward * formed no determinate plan " “ ° f lhe com P afs < and had a a littIe reached the thick houghs Of a ft eadTn.T. S !‘ n . relt ^' h ™felf amidft repofe, dearlyearnhhy hhftLue whf J 7 J h ° u - « f fet forward } keeping as before^ In * ■''“ n ae rtUV0 *'-» he again parts of the foreft : g b ut the mor’n L ^ na " OW paths 2nd th ^eft T e «heU^ hook the air, a°nd .ht‘my S dXfs “ l “«Thri rather en 1 ' "" “**'£*%£ teTi dorms as this, than go where I am fure'to me'eMhe dfv“l -^'h ‘h^ kept his court there always thefe twenty years • and aU h 138 come every night to dance with himf and I’f^fui ' r % IT j* make. There is fucb a /broking, fuch howling and fuch^h bub, that every body would rather ten ™ i * , ch buh - go Within one of the caftle, fpecially after finMet’o^ « '7'’ ,h ?, n fnend : [ am ferry to have detained thee.” “ Then voTh” * Will not go to my cottage ?” « No • I finnk d,, » 7 bonour calfle the receptacle of robber^’ . nf, Bu V s not that *:iu;« -,r ... 1 Doers - Uh! no, no * the hardieft villain of them all would- not fleep there "°' "° ’ th " hardieft for ,h richeft booty ,hey might tfk -7d 2 IT^Tk^ g **"{ feared. « Farewell friend.’" ai v 1S u known and FhlS llninKokt f o,-l ..1 r • ■ T . • or dilcovery.” 7 U11 *y from interruption The violence of the ftorm made him run acrof« i foon arrived at what had been the moat, but which THE HAUNTED CASTLE. 7 come choked with weeds. A decayed drawbridge lay acrofs it. by which he patted into the ruined court. The door of the cattle itood half open, and he entered a fpacious hall : but his entrance occafioned no fmall buttle, from the fright it gave a large owl, who had taken up his hitherto unmolefted ttation in that place, and whole fudden flight alarmed a family of bats, its ancient iniiabi- * ants * The uproar occafioned by his intrufion having a little ffib- iided, Julian looked round. An air of magnificence was ft ill vihble through the dirt and cobwebs. Its upper pannels, adorned with whole length pi&ures of the emperors of Germany, its lower with military trophies, the back-iwurd, the battered helmet, and the tattered colours, evinced the a£hve bravery of their poffdlors. Its floor, where, from the accumulated dull of a length of years* the floor could be difeerned, was marble in large chequers of black and white : the windows large j but, from their Gothic ftmchire, and the gials being painted with armorial bearings, covered too with dirt and cobwebs, the light which ftruck through them was obreaslofheTye. and ^ ju “ t0 thc '-‘ou„d„,g A fpacious ftone ftair-cafe was at the upper end of this hall, and feveial doors on each fide. Julian opened one, and found it J e «l into a nobie fuit of apartments, whofe velvet hangings, which once had been crimfon adorned with gold, were dropfmg°by damp and negleft from the walls. 1 5 J P fur P rifed him was > that, though unin- habited, the caftle was not disfurmfhed, there appearing in tliei'e «ooms every thing proper for an opulent family, though in a date fLal i , ^ Cf ? airs were man X of them tailing to pieces, and weighf ^ niaib e tables had ciu thed their frames with their own w rnil5g i in A°i he halJ> he °P eneda door on the other fide, and rtmnd it conduced to the offices, among which was a kitchen, fur- mfhed with every culmary apparatus, and in feme diforder, as if in actual ufe, tnough dirty, and devoured with ruft. He then akended the flairs j and, opening a door in the front of the ante-chamber, he found himfelt in a grand faioon 5 and he pn. -eived this floor had not fluttered near fo much as the ground- floor by damp; for the fplendid ornaments of this room were in a very good fta‘e of preservation, and fully evinced the magnificent and elegant tafle of thofe who had adorned it. He next opened the doors of many bed-chambers. Some of them he found fumptuoufly decorated, others fimply elegant. All of them had futtered more or Jefs, but ftemingly more from damp than J ulTa " im P uted t0 the choaking up of the moat, that had attested the cattle walls, the coftly hangings which were upon them bearing the grea elt marks of decay. ** One of thefe chambers he entered, whofe hangings were in much e ter prefervation than the reft ; they were of rich tapettry. Over the chimney-piece of this room was a large pifture, which con- tained a family group, and fixed the attention of Julian. A man 8 THE HAUNTED CASTLE. in the prime of life, and of a noble air, ftood leaning with looks of plea fu re and cordial love over the back of a chair, on which fat a lady of exquifite beauty. On her lap Jay a lovely finding male infant, which (he was careffing : at her knee ftood a fine little boy j and at a fmall diftance were two other, children} one a beautiful girl, feated on a lamb, whole neck was decorated with flowers, and held on by a boy of a molt amiable countenance, ftemingly iome- thin g older than herfelf. The day was, by this time drawing to its clofe. Julian was (till dripping wet from the Itorm; though his curiofity had fo entirely engrafted every faculty, that it had fcarcely occurred to him. A chill, which he now felt, reminded him that he was fo } and he took off fome of his clothes, and hung them at the back of a chair to dry, thinking to wrap himl'elf up in the counterpane of the bed. But perceiving preffes in a clofet, the door of which ftood open, he looked into them, and to his great furprife found they were full of men’s habiliments of the ricneft kinds. “ This caftle,” laid he, “ ab®unds in wonders. I muft beg leave to borrow this night- gown,” throwing one about his (houldersj and then laying him r leif down on the bed, he was foon buried in a profound repofe, out of which he was fuddenly awoke about midnight by a horrible noife, a kind of cry of diftrefs, as il from feveral voices. Julian poffeffed a courage the moft undaunted } vet as he lay and liftened, and recolle&ed what the peafant had told him of the cable's being the refidence of infernal fpirits, though his good fenfe rejected the fuppoiition, a fen timent not much unlike fear obtruded itfelf with the wonder with which he heard the difmal cry that rung through the caftle. As he was deliberating whether he had better rife, or continue where he was, on a hidden, by the light of the moon, which fhone bright into his apartment, he perceived a man at the foot of the bed. Julian, though greatly furprifed, looked ftedfaftiy at him. He was in a loofe drefs, ftained in many places with blood ; his afpeft expreftive of the deepeft anguifh and heait- felt grief} and his features, Julian thought, like thole in the fa- mily picfuie. The phantom feemed to eye Julian, then waved his hand for him to rile. Though his heart palpitated at fo ftrange a fummons, he inftantly obeyed it. He role from the bed. The phantom walked to the door, and beckoned him to follow. ' It led him down the ftair-cafe, and acrofs the hall, where a door opened to rective them. Through this door Julian ft ill followed his con- ductor, though not without reluctance, when he found it led them into a dark narrow paffage. Hitherto he had enjoyed the light of the moon } but no looner were they entered this place, than the door (hut to .with a violence which reverberated through all the caftle, and he found himfelf Ihur up in utter darknefs. imme- diately his hand was feized by one of icy coldnefs, and he was drawn with an irrefiftibie force down a winding and deep defcent of great length. Was it in man to be unappalled in fuch a fituation ? The idea of his companion— -The hoiror of the daiknefs— The delcent. THE HAUNTED CASTLE. g which Teemed to his imagination as if leading info the bowels of the earth ! — His blood Teemed congealed by the cold touch of thofe ftrange fingers ; his heart beat with a violence which would fcarcely allow hir* to breathe. A door before them flew open, and Julian defcried a room, or rather a dungeon, where, by a blue and ful- phureous light, he Taw a woman fitting on the floor, beTmeared with blood, and round her three children bleeding. Seeing Julian, the rofe, and glided towards him with fpread arms, as if to em- brace him ; but, with a heart too much opprefled to fupport any additional terrors, he fhrui.k with hoiror from the embrace, and fell into a deep fwoon. It was feveial hours ere Julian revived to TenTe and recollection. He iooked round. The Tun, who was now at Tome height, dart- ing his beams on the window of a neighbouring tower, fhot from thence downward an oblique ray, which, piercing through the bars of that difmal abode in which Julian found himfelf, enabled him, bj* its faint and indiftintft: light, to view it. It was a narrow gloomy dungeon, the walls of which were beTmeared with blood, and dropping with a noxious dew, that partook of its colour. On the floor lay leveral dead bodies, which time had wafted to fkeletons. Unnerved, and with weakened fpirits, Julian fhiveied with horror atthefcene; and, perceiving the door open, endeavoured imme- diately to efcape from it to the upper regions of the caftle. With Tome difficulty, and not without a chill of horror, he cau- tyoufly retrod his midnight fteps through the dark afcent, groping with his hands, and running every moment againft the damp wind-^ ing wall ; and never was the broad light of day fo welcome to his eyes, as when, on pufhing open the door, he found himlelf in the hall. He afcended the ftair-cafe with hafty fteps, looking behind him as if he feared the phantom was following him : and, having entered the chamber where he flept, he put on his clothrs. With all expedition he left this troubled abode ; and crofting the lawn, regained the fkirt of that foreft which he had travelled the preceding day. He had fcarcely entered it, when he again met the fame peafant who had accofted him the day before. “ A fmiiing morning, your honour, after the ftorm of yefterday. You muft have been nation wet. Why woudn’t you be io good as to go to my poor cottage ? We fhould have been a very few minutes running there; and my wife would have been fo happy to dry your honour’s clothes, which to my thinking are wet now.” Doft thou know, me, good fellow?” “ Yes, your honour. Don’t vow re- member the Count’s vaftal, Conrad ?’* But how came you in this part of the country, Conrad ?’’ “ Oh, your honour, I mar- ried Gillian, one of lady Konigfal’s attendants, and fettled here, where f earn hard bread by cutting wood in the foreft, and cai lying it to Augfburg. But though I earn coarle htead by hard labour, and the fweat of my brow, what of that? Work is good for my health : the rich man muft toil or be fick ; and he endures as much fatigue in fporting as I do in wood cutting.” “ Oh, Conrad ! thou ait indeed a happy man !” “ I am contented, your honour j io THE HAUNTED CASTLE, and that is every thing. But would you make me happy, and go to my cottage?” “ Yes, I think I will go with thee, to have mv clothes dried, which aie indeed very damp. Which is the way ?'* “ O, this way, your honour.” They Toon reached the cabin (for it was no better) of honed Conrad, who bawled out, as he entered, “ Here, Gillian, I have brought thee Lord Julian ! His clothes are wet : make a fire, and dry them. Perhaps he hath not yet bioke his fall, and will eat lome of our homely tare.” “ Will you,” laid Gillian, “ will your Lordlhip condefcend to blels our humble board ?” “ Gladly, Gillian $ for, to confeis a truth, I have been a long time farting.” The cabin was now in commotion ; the children weie difpatched for (ticks to make a fire. Julian was Itript of his wet clothes, and dreli in the holiday ones of Conrad, which, though fufficiently homely, were clean. Conrad undertook to dry them, whilft Gil- lian prepared the entertainment. A clean doth w'as fpread upon a fhining brown table; and a regale of bread, butter, and milk, fat thereon, that no time might be loft, whilit a repaft of eggs and fifn was preparing. Some nuts and dried grapes compoled the defert ; whilit the pure beverage of nature from t he brook at their door Ipaikied in the brown jug. The rage of hunger appeafed, Julian had leifure to look about him. The houfe, though a mud built cottage, was clean even to nicenefs, with all its humble furniture. His hoft was a robuit peafant of about thirty: honefty, in its plained: and moft ruftic garb, marked his manners. Conrad had gazed in filence on Julian while he was eating: his voracious appetite, his wet clothes from the preceding day’s ftorm, bis being unattended, became matter of allonifliment to him. “ I alk .your pardon, your honour ; but I cannot chufe, but wonder to fee your honour without any feivants, ieerr.ingly without lodg- ing laft night, and hungry enough to relifh our homely diet. If the good Count knew all this, he would fear you would catch a fever with your damp things.” “ And Lady Jemima,*’ faid Gil- lian, “ what would rtie fear ?” The cheeks of Julian glowed at that name. “ Alas !” faid he, fighing, “ know you not that the good Count is dead? His bro- ther is now' in polfeflion of the cartle, and has chafed me from it : and Lady Jemima — is — by this time — the wife of the young Baron Hailbron ; who, not content with that envied blefling, punues my life with the mod rancorous hate. It is but two nights ago that I eicaped from ruffians, hired to murder me, into thele forefts, where, alone and unarmed as I am, I would wilh to avoid them.” “ Here, your honour, here you Jhall be fafe. I will pledge my life 40 fecure yours,” faid Conrad. “ Generous, blefled fpirit !” laid Julian, “ worthy to inhabit the breafts of princes ! Gratitude cannot be a folitary virtue; to you I will commit mylelf. I have if ill (ome ducats, which will prevent my becoming burthtnfome, till I can fix upon a plan for my future conduit.” Conrad and his wife were as grateful to Julian for his intention 3 THE HAUNTED CASTLE. u to ftay with them as if he had conferred a benefit. (r But,” af 1 r a paufe, (Purveying again the cottage,) “ my good friends,” laid Julian, “ this habitation but ill accords with your own expanded hearts ; it mud be too 1’mail for the family you already have ; you cannot lodge me. Befides, Conrad, my enemies wtll purine me. I know well their malice ; it is edged with double fury bv con- feious ingratitude. If I appear here, others in this diftri£l may know me as well as. yourfeif ; inquiries will be made after me, and I (hall be betrayed. Is there no unfrequented place near, in which I may dither?” “ I, by the greatefl accident in the world, d f- coveied a cave in the foreft, which is very large, and it is dry and clean,” laid Conrad. “ The very thing ; that cave fhall be my refidence” “ And what does your lordfhip think of the drels ot a hermit r” faid Gillian. “ As of the happielt thought imagi- nable, and the propereft inhabitant of a cave. I am impatient to wear it — But how (hail I procure it ?” y 'hinlcing, the Count delerves all the fcrrow he meets with. He turned this good young gentleman out of doors to feek his for- tune ; when, I have heard, he never would have been mailer cf the caftle, if it had not been for him. But we mud take care how we talk of our betters, you know. Well, and then he would make madam Jemima marry the Baron, becaufe his father was rich; and now God, you lee, has taken his daughter from him. Allis for the bell, as our pried fays ; for, to my thinking, die had better be in heaven than married to the Baron, whole father is hated by every body; and all the fervants fay the fon is as like him as two peas.” Though this intelligence was given in a whifpering voice, Julian loft not a word, as he leaned for fupport again!! one of the pillars of the church, which fortunately he happened 'to Hand near; for a fupport, indeed, he wanted. 44 Lead me to the monument, faid he, “ Conrad;” Conrad reluflantly lent his arm, and Julian, by that adillance, daggered towards the monument; which, by this time, the coffin being depolited, and all due rights performed, every one had quit- ted, but the man whofe office it was tc take care of it, and lock it up, which he was then preparing to do. 44 I have no leifure to gratify farther curiolky,” faid he, very rudely, as Julian entered. “ If you dont’t come out dire 6 Hy, I lhall lock you up.” “ I lhall thank thee, friend ; thou canll not do me a greater fervice,” re- plied Juiinn, throwing himlelf upon his knees by the fide of the ‘ ccffin, and Ipreading his arms over it, whillt a torrent of tears poured down his cheeks. The man looked at him with allonilhment, not unmixed with pity. Poor Conrad was in tears ; yet, amidft his grief, forgot not how neceffary it was his patron fiiould be concealed. “ A poor crazed hermit,” faid he to the I’exton, 44 whofe whole dependence was on the charity of Lady Jemima.” “ Alas ! poor man! his lofs is great'indeed !” replied the other. ‘ 4 We have ali realon to weep. So good-, fo affable, fo kind ! Ah ! the poor have loft their belt friend! — But come, father, grief will not bring her to life again, and I want to be getting home.” 44 Have patience with him a Ihort time,” faid Conrad. 4 ‘ Have you no others matters to lee after in the church? In about a quarter of an hour, perhaps, I lhall be able to move him from hence.” “ Yes, I want to put things a lit tie to rights; but, when that is done, I mult not be kept.” So faying, he left them. “ Oh! my dear Sir,” faid Conrad to Julian, who Hill con- tinued to bathe the coffin with his tears, “ though i cannot blame i* THE HAUNTED CASTLE. your grief for the lofs of fo fweet a creature, yet confider where you are, and the evil conlequences of being known.” “ Where I am> Conrad! Oh! I know full well — In the place which holds all that was ever dear to me in this world, and all to