1829.] the Cambridge Coachman. 25 
none of these dire portents happened to alarm them, they followed their 
more courageous leader into the haunted room, though with hearts beat- 
ing somewhat higher from the expectation of what might be before all 
was over. The gallery, however, which not a little resembled the interior 
of a chapel, had nothing particularly suspicious in its appearance. It 
was a long room, lighted, awkwardly enough, at either end, by a stained 
window, that occupied the entire height and width of the building, 
while the sides were divided into panels, on which were painted the 
antient lords and ladies of the mansion, from the first possessor down to 
the last who had died within its fated walls. The same chairs occupied 
the same places they had done a hundred years before—tall, ponderous 
fellows they were, with backs as long as an American’s, and red damask 
coverlids over a plentiful stuffing of wool, on frames of ebony. To 
match these were two immense tables of the same wood, richly, if not 
elegantly carved, more particularly about their massive legs, which 
were as tattooed as the skin of an Indian, and of weight enough to break 
down the floor of any drawing-room, such as drawing-rooms are in our 
degenerate days, when it is much if the building outlives the builder. 
The huge fire-place held no grate, probably never had done so; for a 
dog, as it is even now called in some parts of the country, still occupied 
the hearth-stone. This dog was no more than four iron bars, crossed 
and held together by rivets, but was sufficient for all the purposes of a 
wood fire, which the landlord now hastily set about kindling ; for he, as 
well as his guests, always excepting Frank, had by this time seen quite 
enough of the Prior’s Gallery to wish themselves safe back again in the 
kitchen. Not, as I said before, that there was any thing particularly 
alarming about it ; but still it had an air of desolation, from having been 
so long abandoned, that, when one thought of the tales connected with 
it, might make a man feel somewhat nervous, even if he had a stouter 
heart than could be pretended to by any of the good company at the 
Red Lion. The dust of half a century was lying on the dark oak floor, 
ildew hung upon the walls, and the spiders had drawn their grey 
ts from window to window, while yet, to the great surprise of every 
one, the pictures, though much faded by time and the damps, were as 
clear from dust or cobwebs as if some friendly hand had taken them 
under its particular superintendance. The guests shook their heads 
anxiously as they pointed this out to each other, though their remarks 
_ did not go beyond a few broken whispers ; and glad men were they 
. when they had closed the gallery-door on Frank, and were on their way 
back to the kitchen. 
_ © Not asoul in the house went to bed that night. There was something 
so cheerful in the sight of a blazing chimney and a score of human 
_ faces, that no one could prevail upon himself to quit such comforts for 
_ the loneliness of his bed-room ; so they all agreed to keep their valour 
warm by huddling close together about the fire ; and in this way, with 
_ the additional help of the punch-bowl, they contrived to pass the time 
p. rably well till the clock struck twelve. At this signal, the storm, 
J which before had been quite loud enough, now burst upon the house with 
redoubled fury ; the wind howled along the ruined passages like astrong 
man in agony ; every door and window shook and rattled, that you would 
have thought a legion of fiends were clamouring for admission ; and this 
tremendous hurly-burly was kept up at least for ten minutes ; but then 
M.M. New Series.—Vou. VII. No. 37. E 
