the figures of wraiths and goblins.' 'Pobin Telfer,' said my father, addressing the third smuggler, tell me nought of the secrets of your perilous craft, but tell me what you have seen, and why ye uttered that fearful scream, that made the wood-doves start from Caerlaverock pines.'I'll tell ye what, goodman, said the mariner, I have seen the fires o' heaven running as thick along the sky, and on the surface of the ocean, as ye ever saw the blaze on a bowl o' punch at a merrymaking, and neither quaked nor screamed; but ye'll mind the light that came to that cottage to-night was one for some fearful purport, which let the wise expound; sae it lessened nae one's courage to quail for sic an apparition. Od! if I thought living soul would ever make the start I gied an upcast to me, I'd drill his breast bane wi' my dirk like a turnip lanthorn.' My father mollified the wrath of this maritime desperado, by assuring him, he beheld the light go from the sea to the cottage, and that he shook with terror, for it seemed no common light. Ou, God! then,' said hopeful Robin, since it was one o' our ain cannie seaapparitions I care less about it; I took it for some landward sprite! and now I think on't, where were my een? did it no stand amang its ain light, with its long hanks of hair dripping, and drenched with a casket of gold in ae hand, and the other guarding its throat. I'll be bound it's the ghost o' some sonsie lass that has had her neck nipped for her gold; and had she stayed till I emptied the bicker o' brandy, I would have ask'd a cannie question or twae.' Willie Weethause had now fairly overcome his consternation, and began to feel all his love for the gallant trade, as his comrade called it, return. The tide serves, lads! the tide serves; let us slip our drap o' brandy into the bit bonnie boat, and tottle away amang the sweet starlight as far as the Kingholm or town quarry; ye ken we have to meet Baillie Gardevine, and laird Soukaway o' Ladlemouth.' They returned, not without hesitation and fear, to the old cottage; carried their brandy to the boat; and as my father and I went home, we heard the dipping of their oars in the Nith, along the banks of which they sold their liquor, and told their tale of fear, magnifying its horror at every step, and introducing abundance of variations. "The story of the Ghost with the Golden Casket, flew over the country side with all its variations, and with many comments: some said they saw her, and some thought they saw her appear again; and those who had the hardihood to keep watch on the beach at midnight, had their tales to tell of terrible lights and strange visions. With one who delighted in the marvellous, the spectre was decked in attributes that made the circle of auditors tighten round the hearth; while others, who allowed to a ghost only a certain quantity of thin air to clothe itself in, reduced it in their description to a very unpoetic shadow, or a kind of better sort of will-o'-the wisp, that could for its own amusement counterfeit the human shape. There were many who, like my father, beheld the singular illumination appear at midnight on the coast; saw also something sailing along with it in the form of a lady in bright garments, her hair long and wet, and shining in diamonds and heard a struggle, and the shriek as of a creature drowning. The belief of the peasantry did not long confine the apparition to the sea coast; it was seen sometimes late at night far inland, and following Gilbert, the fisherman, like a human shadow-like a pure light like a white garment and often in the shape, and with the attributes, in which it disturbed the carousal of the smug glers. I heard douce Thomas Haining, a God-fearing man, and an elder of the Burgher congregation, and on whose word I could well lippen, when drink was kept from his head, I heard him say that as he rode home late from the Roodfair of Dumfries the night was dark, there lay a dusting of snow on 66 righteousness. See how he waves his the ground, and no one appeared on the road but himself, he was lilting and singing the cannie end of the auld sang, "There's a cuttie stool in our kirk," which was made on some foolish quean's misfortune, when he heard the sound of horses' feet behind him at full gallop, and ere he could look round, who should flee past, urging his horse with whip and spur, but Gilbert the fisherman! Little wonder that he galloped,' said the elder, for a fearful form hovered around him, making many a clutch at him, and with every clutch uttering a shriek most piercing to hear.' But why should I make a long story of a common tale ? The curse of spilt blood fell on him, and on his children, and on all he possessed; his sons and daughters died his flocks perishedhis grain grew, but never filled the ear; and fire came from heaven, or rose from hell, and consumed his house, and all that was therein. He is now a man of ninety years—a fugitive and a vagabond on the earth-without a house to put his white head in-with the un-water, muttering all the while. "She's expiated curse still clinging to him." While my companion was making this summary of human wretchedness, I observed the figure of a man, stooping to the earth with extreme age, gliding through among the bushes of the ruined cottage, and approaching the advancing tide. He wore a loose great coat, patch ed to the ground, and fastened round his waist by a belt and buckle, the remains of stockings and shoes were on his feet; a kind of fisherman's cap surmounted some remaining white hairs, while a long peeled stick supported him as he went. My companion gave an involuntary shudder when he saw him. "Lo, and behold, now, here comes Gilbert, the Fisherman; once every twenty-four hours doth he come, let the wind and the rain be as they will, to the nightly tide, to work o'er again, in imagination, his auld tragedy of un half gane now, and I'll be a braw laird, and build a bonny house, and gang crousely to kirk and market; now I may let the waves work their will; my work will be ta'en for theirs." He turned to wade to the shore, but a large and heavy wave came full dash upon him, and bore him off his feet, and ere any assistance reached him, all human aid was too late; for nature was so exhausted with the fulness of years, and with his exertions, that a spoonful of water would have drowned him. The body of this miserable old man was interred, after some opposition from the peasantry, beneath the wall of the kirk-yard; and from that time, the Ghost with the Golden Casket was seen no more, and only continued to haunt the evening tale of the hind and the farmer. SECRETS OF CABALISM; OR, RAVENSTONE AND ALICE OF HUNTINGDON. On the evening of the 29th of June | 1555, in one of the narrow streets near the Poultry Compter, in London, a dark square-built ruffian, in a thrum cap and leathern jerkin, suddenly sprung forth from his hiding-place, and struck his dagger with all his force against the breast of a man passing by. "By my holidam," said the man, that would have craved no thanks if my coat-hardy had been thinner-but thou shalt have a jape (a fool's mark) for thy leman to know thee by," and flourishing a short gisarme, or double-pointed weapon, in his left hand, with his right, on which he seemed to wear an iron glove, he stamped a sufficient mark on the assassin's face, and vanished in a mo ment. "Why, thou Lozel!" said another ruffian, starting from beneath a penthouse," wast playing at barley-break with a wooden knife? Thou wilt hardly earn twenty pounds this bout." "A plague on his cloak, Coniers !he must have had a gambason under it. Thou mayest earn the coin thyself;-thou hast gotten a gold ring and twenty shillings in part payment." "Get thee gone to thy needle and baudekin again, like a woman's tailor as thou art! Thou hast struck a wrong man, and he has taken away thy nose that he may swear to the right one.That last quart of huff-cap made froth of thy brains." "My basilard is sharp enough for thee, I warrant," muttered his disappointed companion, as he drew his tough hyke or cloak over his bruises, and slunk into a darker alley. Meanwhile, the subject of their discourse and of their villany strode with increased haste towards the Compter-prison, and inquired for the condemned prisoner, John Bradford. The keeper knew Bishop Gardiner's secretary, and admitted him without hesitation, hoping that he brought terms of grace to the pious man, whose meek demeanour in the prison had won love from all about him. The secretary found him on his knees, as his custom was, eating his spare meal in that humble posture, and meditating with his hat drawn over his face. He rose to receive his visitors and his tall slender person, held gracefully erect, aided a countenance which derived from a faint bloom and a beard of rich brown, an expression of youthful beauty such as a painter would not have deemed unworthy the great giver of the creed for which he suffered. Gardiner's secretary uncovered his head, and, bending it humbly, kissed his hand with tears. "Be of good comfort, brother," said Bradford,—“ I have done nothing in this realm except in godly quietness, unless at Paul's Cross, where I bestirred myself to save him who is now Bishop of Bath, when his rash sermon provoked the multitude." "Ah, Bradford! Bradford!" replied his visitor, "thou didst save him who will now burn thee. Had it not been for thee, I had run him through with my sword that day!" Bradford started back, and looked earnestly,"I know thy voice now, and I remember that voice said those same words in my ear when the turmoil was at Paul's Cross. For what comest thou now? a man of blood is no fit company for a sinner going to die." "Not while I live, my most dear tutor; I am Rufford of Edlesburgh." The old man threw his arms about his neck, and hung on it for an instant. "It is twelve years since I saw thee, and my heart grieved when I heard a voice like thine in the fierce riot at Paul's Cross. Art thou here bodily, or, do I only dream? There is a rumour abroad, that thy old enemy, Coniers, slew thee at Huntingdon last year." "He meant well, John Bradford, but I had a thick hilted pourpoint and a tough leathern cap; I have met his minions more than once, and they know what print my hand leaves. Enough of this-I am not in England now as Giles Rufford; I shall do thee better service as what I seem." "Seeming never was good service," said the divine: "what hast thou to do with me, who am in God's hands ?" "He makes medicines of asps and vipers," answered his pupil; "I shall serve him if I save his minister, though it be by subtlety. I have crept into Gardiner's favour by my skill in strange tongues and Hebrew secrets, therefore I am now his secretary: and I have an ally in the very chamber of our queenmistress." "That woman is not unwise or unmerciful," replied Bradford, " in things that touch not her faith; but I will be helped by no unfair practice on her. Mercy with God's mercy will be welcome, but I am readier to die than to be his forsworn servant." He "Master, there can be no evil in gathering the fruit Providence has ripenened for us. Gardiner was Wolsey's disciple once, and hath more heathen learning in him than Catholic zeal. There is a leaven left of his old studies which will work us good. believes in the cabalism of the Jews, and reads strange books from Padua and Antwerp, which tell him of lucky and lucky days. He shall be made to think to-morrow full of evil omens, and his superstition shall shake his cruelty." things, there came, as I think, a vision raised by no holy art, into my prison last night. And it had such a touch of heaven's beauty in its face, and such rare music in its voice, that it well nigh tempted me to believe its promise. But I remembered my frailty, and was safe." The secretary's eyes shone brightly, and half a smile opened his lips. But he lowered both his eyes and his voice as he replied, "What did this fair vision promise?" "Safety and release, if I would trust her, and be pledged to obey her."There was a long pause before the young man spoke again." Do you not remember, my foster-father, the wild laurel that grew near my birthplace? An astrologer at Pisa told me it should not wither till the day of my death. And it seems to me, when I walked under its shade, that the leaves made strange music, as if a spirit had touched them. It is greener and richer than its neighbours, and the fountain that flows near its root has, as men believe, a rare power of healing-the dreams that visit me when I sleep near it are always the visitings of a courteous and lovely spirit. What if the legends of Greece and Syria speak truth? May we not both have guardian spirits that choose earthly shapes?" "My son," replied Bradford, "those thoughts are the diamond-drops that lie on the young roses of life; but the Sun of Truth and Reason should disperse them. Man has one guardian, and he needs no more unless he forgets that One. Thou wast called in thy youth the silken pleader, because thy words were like fine threads spun into a rich tissue. Be wary lest they entangle thee, and become a snare instead of a banner fit to guide Christians. I am a blighted tree marked for the fire, and thou canst not save me by searing the freshness of thy young laurel for my sake." "I will shame the astrologer to-morrow," said the pupil ; " and therefore I must make this hour brief. She who rules the queen's secrets has had a bribe to make Mary merciful. There is hope of a birth at court, and death ought not to be busy. Fare-ye-well! but do not distrust that fair apparition if it should open these prison-doors to-morrow."-So saying, the young man departed without heeding Bradford's monitory gesture. Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, and High Chancellor by Mary's favour, sat that night alone and thoughtful in his closet. He had been the chief commissioner appointed to preside at Bradford's trial: and though he had eagerly urged his colleagues to condemn him, he secretly abhorred the time-serving cruelty of Bishop Bonner and the cowardice of Bourne, who had not dared to save the life of the benefactor he had begged to save his own. "You have tarried late," said Gardiner, as his secretary entered" the stars are waning, and their intelligence will be imperfect." "I traced it before midnight," replied the Secretary," but I needed the help of your lordship's science." "It is strange," said the patron, leaning thoughtfully on one of Roger Bacon's volumes, "that men in every age and climate, and of every creed, have this appetite for an useless knowledge and it would be stranger, if both profane and sacred history did not shew us that such knowledge had been sometimes granted, though in vain.What is that paper in thy hand?" "It is a clumsy calculation, my lord, of this night's aspect. I learned in Araby, as your lordship knows, some small guesses at Chaldean astrology; but I deem the characters and engraven signs of the Hermetic men more powerful in arresting the intelligent bodies in the heavens. They were the symbols used by Pythagoras and Zoroaster, and their great master Apollonius." 66 Ignatius Loyola and Athanasius Kircher, did not disdain them," replied the Bishop, crossing himself "But what was the fruit of thy calcu lation?" 66 Nothing," "answered his secretary humbly-"nothing at least not already known to one more able than myself. The first of July is a day of evil omen, and the last day of June has a doubtful influence. My intelligence says, if life be taken on that day, a mitre will be among ashes." "Ha! and the heretics will think it if Bradford dies, for they are wont to say, he is worthier of a bishopric than we of a parish priesthood. Thou hast not yet told all." "My lord, I see the rest dimly.There are symbols of a falling star and a flame quenched in blood. They tell of a gorgeous funeral soon." Gardiner was silent several minutes before he raised his head. "Thou knowest, Ravenstone, that I was like the Jesuit Loyola, a student of earthly things, and a servant in profane wars before I took the cross. Therefore I sinned not when I learned as he did. And thou knowest he thought much of heathen and Egyptian conjuration; but that is not my secret. Plato and Socrates had their attendant demons. I have seen, it may be, such a one in a dream last night. Methought there stood by me in an oratory a woman of queen-like beauty and strange beauty. She shewed me, as it were beyond a mist, a green tree growing near a fountain, and the star that shone on that fountain was the brightest in the sky: but presently the tree grew wide and broad, and the light of the star set behind it. Then I saw in my cathedral at Winchester my own effigies on a tomb, but all the inscription was effaced and broken except the date, and I read the first day of July.'-Is it not strange, Ravenstone, that a dream should so well tally with thy planetary reckoning? Yet I was once told by a witchwoman, that the Bishop of Winchester should read our Queen Mary's funeral sermon." "So he may, my lord," said the |