He set out about six o'clock in the morning.
My father got up early that morning to take leave of him before his
departure, at which he seemed vastly uneasy. He took him in his arms,
and said, "God bless you, my dear Cranstoun, when you come next, I
hope your unhappy affair will be decided to our mutual satisfaction."
To this Mr. Cranstoun replied, "Yes, sir, I hope in my favour; or if
this should fail that you should hear of my death. Be tender to,"
continued he, "and comfort this poor thing," turning towards me, "whom
I love better than myself." Then my father look Mr. Cranstoun and
myself in his arms, and we all three shed tears. This was a very
moving scene. My father afterwards went out of the room, and fetched a
silver dram-bottle, holding near half a pint, filled it with rum, and
made a present of both to Mr. Cranstoun; bidding him keep the
dram-bottle for his sake, and drink the liquor on the road; assuring
him, that if he found himself sick or cold, the latter would prove a
cordial to him. Mr. Cranstoun then got into the post-chaise, and took
his leave of Henley.

It will be proper to take notice in this place, by way of digression,
of a very remarkable event, or rather series of events, that happened
before Mr. Cranstoun's last departure for Scotland. One day whilst my
mother and I were last in London, we were talking of the immortality
of the soul; and the subject we were then upon led us insensibly to a
discourse of apparitions; and that again to a promise we made each
other, that the first of us who died should appear to the survivor,
after death, if permitted so to do. My mother dying first, in the
manner already related, I sometimes retired into the room where she
died, in hopes of seeing her. Here I lay near half a year, earnestly
desiring to see my mother, without being able either to see or hear
any thing. After this, my father lay in that room; but for some time
neither saw nor heard any thing. Afterwards, one night, he taxed me
with being at his chamber door, rapping at it, rushing with my
silk-gown, and refusing to answer him when he called to me. My chamber
was at a small distance from his, and into it he came the next
morning: demanding for what reason I had so frighted him. To this I
replied, "I had never been at his door, nor out of my bed the whole
night." He then inquired of all the maids, who only lay in the house,
whether any of them disturbed him; to which they all answered in the
negative