RELICS OF POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS. 



69 



she replied, with a singular light in her pale blue eyes, that sht, 

 knesw, by the spirit of divination, lately granted to her, how her 

 fate was linked with the family of the castle. " I also know," she 

 added, " the moment of my death is not far distant, and I am de- 

 sirous to commune with their chaplain." 



Her mother, whose imagination was alive to all supernatural 

 things, hstened with awe and astonishment to this intimation, but 

 did not forget to ask why her daughter preferred a clergyman 

 wholly unknown to her. She repeated her former words, only en- 

 forcing them with these — " In two hours it may be too late." Hu- 

 man nature, always aspiring to something greater than itself, finds 

 a kind of loveliness in mystery. Dame Lambert was touched and 

 elevated rather than alarmed. She despatched her only man-ser- 

 vant for the chaplain of Earl Romeville, whose more modern resi- 

 dence was not distant, and they returned together before mid- 

 night. Margaret received the clergyman alone in her chamber, 

 where they held a long and secret conference ; after which he 

 obeyed her mother's request for an interview. He looked pale, 

 evidently agitated, and, after several attempts to evade the anx- 

 ious enquiries addressed to him, replied, in a very grave tone — 



" I am not certain, madam, whether I ought to discredit all the 

 extraordinary things I have heard to-night, or impute them to that 

 heat of fancy, which is either the cause or effect of pretended di- 

 vinations. Your daughter has confessed to me the particulars of 

 a certain ceremony, by which, on St. Mark's eve, the ignorant wo- 

 men of this district hope to acquire information from ash-leaves of 

 a peculiar shape, or the ivy-leaf plucked with a strange carol. 

 She has been shewn, it seems, the ancient picture of Rosamond 

 de CHfford in this castle, and told the prophecy which hints, that 

 when as much beauty is found in any living inhabitant, another 

 mistress will appear in it. It cannot be denied that Margaret 

 Lambert most nearly resembles the charming countenance of fair 

 Rosamond, and with such inferences and expectations she probably 

 fell asleep. Her dream was strikingly circumstantial. She ima- 

 gined herself led by the celebrated phantom of Lady Ann Pem- 

 broke, my patron s noble ancestor, into the gallery of pictures, 

 where she saw herself in the ancient garments of fair Rosamond, 

 and afterwards laid in the stone coffin of Sir John Wardell, whose 

 loyalty and courage in the cause of Charles the Martyr lost him 

 his estates. Pardon me if T think the rest of your daughter's 



