A day's ramble by the sea-shore. -IT? 



path. On the top of this rocky and sea-girt promontory a castle is said once to 

 have stood, which belonged to the Ogilvies of the Boyne; there are, indeed, 

 slight traces of a building having once existed, but so completely has Time, 

 aided, perhaps, by the hand of violence, done the work of demolition, that 

 scarcely a fragment remains to tell of its grandeur or its strength, or even to 

 arrest the keen and scrutinizing eye of the antiquarian, or to draw the attention 

 of the zealous admirer of the ruined walls of ancient times. Here, however, 

 we were, and searching about with the view of allaying our curiosity, we 

 accidentally stumbled on what we at first sight considered to be a white stone; 

 but, reader, judge if you can, for we cannot describe our surprise and terror — 

 yes, terror! — for, be it remembered, we were within the precincts of an old, 

 very old castle, and everybody knows what fearful stories of hobgoblins, horrid 

 and bloody deeds, and dismal tales are told of some such places; — judge, then, I 

 again say, our surprise as we beheld the supposed stone change its form, stand 

 up, and assume the appearance of a living being! It was in vain we rubbed 

 and rubbed our eyes, for there it stood before us, a thing of actual life and 

 motion — not an imaginary apparition of an over-heated and wandering fancy, 

 nor yet an ideal phantom of a weak vision or diseased brain, but stern reality 

 itself, with its large yellow and demon-like eyes staring us full in the face, 

 with a look of apparent distrust, not unmingled with fear. Although I have 

 no great dread of ghosts, not being a believer in such things, still I must 

 say that on this occasion my heart died within me, and I felt a good deal 

 startled and otherwise queer, as, I believe, also did my friend, at the un- 

 toward and unexpected appearance of our mysterious companion. 



Our consternation having in some measure subsided, and my friend having 

 once more found the use of his tongue, (for we had both been in a manner 

 rendered dumb by the unlooked-for occurrence,) ejaculated in a low whisper, 

 ^'Don't you move, and I'll show you some sport shortly." "For any sake 

 do no such thing," I replied, judging his intention, and dreading the consequences. 

 It was in vain, however, that I expostulated with him on the utter folly and 

 danger, but above all of the calamitous circumstances which might accrue from 

 such a procedure; I was unheeded. Flushed by the excitement of the moment, 

 and perhaps buoyed up with the flattering hopes of a successful issue, my too 

 sanguine neighbour had already, with outstretched arms, and before I was 

 aware, made the assault; but as warlocks and witches have a way of their own 

 of escaping when danger threatens, lo and behold my poor friend, instead of 

 grasping the object of his wish, only embraced a huge portion of the hard and 

 unfeeling rock, whilst the "snow-white spectre, as he was pleased afterwards 

 to term it, glided swiftly and noiselessly away out amongst and through his 

 very fingers, yes, fairly vanished away; but not in a flash of fire, the usual 

 method practised by Water Kelpie and old Nicky Brimstone, nor yet by 

 melting into the more liquid element above, as good spirits are said sometimes 

 to do. How then? By vaulting with a single bound over the rugged and 

 dangerous precipice, and plunging into the gurgling ocean beneath, in the lovely 



VOL. HI. 2 a 



