some three fathoms deep,-now, should such a chance happen as my sword's failing to guard my bosom, you will fold me up in my cloak, and give me to the custody of the Solway. It is a virtuous water, and will be silent;-be you silent too, my friend, even for the sake of an ancient lady who lives in yon old tower." He said this with that tone of wayward and careless gayety which was peculiar to his nature in the most serious and event

ful moments, and then added gravely, "Can I do aught for thee, thou son of Cassandra, heir of Peter Lilly, and rival of Francis Moore, physician ?—art thou curious in the economy of sepulture, my prophetic friend ?" "Leave me lying," said Paul, "with my back to the ground and my face to the sky;"—and they fronted each other, and crossed their swords, resolved not to part without blood.

They had contended some minutes, with eye fixed on eye, and hand opposed to hand, when they were interrupted by the approach of a woman, whose sudden appearance and disordered looks justified the belief, which for the moment possessed them both, that they beheld an apparition. She was young, and still eminently beautiful, though disappointed hope, and sorrow, and shame, had robbed her look of much of its healthy brightness. Her neck was round and bare, and her ringlets, brown and abundant, were woven together, and wreathed down her back with wild flowers; while over her

whole person she had thrown a veil of the finest silk, which concealed her person nought, but showed the unsettled glances of her large wild dark eyes, in which infirmity of mind was more visible than grief. At every step she selected a shell or a flower, and placed them with many an incoherent word in a small basket which she carried in her left hand.

She came almost within touch of Lord Dalveen and Paul without observing them; while each stood with his foot advanced, and his sword-point held up, and gazed on the fair and unhappy creature who had thus stayed their strife. She stooped, and took up a little wreathed shell which the tide was beginning to move, and holding it to her ear, and glancing her eye over the dimpling and glimmering waters, laughed, and said,-" Oh ye little curlie conceited thing, ye tell me a fine story—a full sea and a fair wind. But can ye tell me when my true love's ship will come hame?—I trow ye cannot tell me that. But I can tell you, for I dreamed a sweet dream yestreen. I was sitting on the top of Colvend cliff, watching for his returning sails, and the dew fell sweet, and my brow grew cool, and sleep came on me though my een were wide open, and I thought I saw my true love. Bonnie, and tall, and handsome was he; he was going to Siddick kirk with his bride at his side, and I heard the old folk say, That's young Lord Dalveen, and that's his young bride.' 'His young bride,' I said; that cannot be me; but I'll lift that long white veil, and see

6

6

who dare take my place;' and the kirk-bell was ringing, and the kirk-yard graves were gaping, and I heard a voice crying, Room for Grace Joysan!' and I said, Weel, this maun be me after all;' and I pulled the bride-veil off, and wha d'ye think I saw?-nae braw bonnie blooming bride like me, but a sheeted corse, with the een picked out of its head, and in their place twa elf-candles. I gied such a shriek, and if I hadna-as luck's aye mine-fallen into the sea o'er the cliff, I wad hae surely lost my senses. But the bit dook cooled me, and I came to myself. Now, is nae that a bonnie story?—ye see I am to be a bride yet for all that has happened."

The poor bewildered maiden looked earnestly on the sea, passed her hand repeatedly over her eyes, and, observing a vessel with its white sails glancing in the moonlight, standing over for the Scottish coast, she leaped from the ground, and shouting with joy, exclaimed, "Yonder he comes, I can ken his fair ship among ten thousand." She continued to wave her hands and to gaze earnestly; at last she let her hands drop by her side like lead, sighed, turned away her eyes, and said, "Alas, Grace lass, it's no him,-it's wild Hob Wilkes of Whitehaven, sailing seven year for the gude of his soul, in a ship of moonshine,-his body has been amusing the eels at the bottom of Caerlaverock-pow these six weeks come the new moon. Weel, I think I'm demented; have I not shells of

all sorts, and all manner of wild flowers, that open their wee red heads wet wi' dew to the morning sun, to gather that I may deck my little chamber, for my love to take his pleasure in ?" And she began to pick the wild flowers, which covered, as with a carpet of various colours, that secluded nook.

But one flower was trodden down, and another was crushed, and as she raised them up she muttered, "And a wild beast came by and trode down the thistle of Lebanon, broke the rose of Sharon, and crushed the lily of the valley,-if that's no Scripture, it's nearly as gude. Haud up yere heads, ye blooming fools, are ye to be sorrowfu' because a gowk's foot has crushed ye where ye stand? I like ye a' the better that ye hae had the shod-foot of sorrow on yere tops,―ye maun be gecking, and spreading yere blossoms to the sun, as if ye said in yere hearts, Wha are sae bonnie as we, and forgetting that the blast may break ye,—the sun scorch ye,—some wanton hand pluck ye and cast ye away,—or, waur than a', the random step of some dour ne'er-do-weel may dint ye into the earth before ye have disclosed the half o' your beauty." And she plucked a flower or two, placed them in her basket, and, rising up, stood face to face with Paul, who gazed with moistened eyes on the wreck of a creature so fair and so young. Lord Dalveen had stept back a pace or two, till the thick boughs of a tree threw a dark shadow over him;-he was moved as he looked on the faded and poisoned

flower before him, and days of dalliance and nights of guilty joy, and,―let me be just, hours of remorse and repentance, passed hurriedly over heart and brain.

Grace Joysan-for the voice which she heard in her dream called her by her name,-Grace Joysan looked on Paul, and on Lord Dalveen; and throwing her long veil back from her face, and choosing a few flowers from her basket, strewed them on their swords, which were then laid on the grass, and, giving a wild laugh, said, "Fools baithfools baith,-put up yere swords, like bidable bairns, and gang quietly hame, for were ye to spill yere hearts' blood at my feet, it wadnae make me love ye. I never loved a man but ane, and he's dead or drowned, else he would hae warmed me in his bosom this blessed night.-Daft Jennythe skipper's Jenny,-ye ken her weel enough, she tauld me that my love was come hame;-I trow I pulled her bonnie blue ribbons for her,―served her weel for leasing-making. Aweel, though I be bonnily dressed-weel arrayed, as the daft sang sings, and though this veil covers me finely,and it was my ain love's gift, on a night I mind o'er weel, I am no sure that my bosom will ever grow warm again till him I love returns till't. But my brow's hot enough, and that's a blessing,else I wad perish sitting waiting in the moonlight for the coming of my ain love's ship."

"Grace, my bonnie lass," said Paul, while each