he sea rose round the boat in one huge wave, covered
with a thick crest of foam, and in the midst of the foam was Morwenna!

Morwenna! as lovely as ever, her arms outstretched, her clear green eyes
fixed steadily, triumphantly on Lutey. She did not open her lips, or
make a sign, she only gazed and gazed at her victim.

For a moment he looked at her as though bewildered, then like one bereft
of his senses by some spell, he rose in the boat, and turned his face
towards the open sea. "My time is come," he said solemnly and sadly, and
without another word to his frightened companion he sprang out of the boat
and joined the mermaid. For a yard or two they swam in silence side by
side, then disappeared beneath the waves, and the sea was as smooth again
as though nothing had happened.

From that moment poor Lutey has never been seen, nor has his body been
found. Probably he now forms one of the pieces of statuary so prized by
the mermaiden, and stands decked with sea-blossoms, with gold heaped at
his feet. Or, maybe, with a pair of gills slit under his chin, he swims
about in their beautiful palaces, and revels in the cellars of shipwrecked
wines. The misfortunes to his family did not end, though, with Lutey's
disappearance, for, no matter how careful they are, how far they live from
the sea, or what precautions they take to protect themselves, every ninth
year one of old Lutey's descendants is claimed by the sea.

THE WICKED SPECTRE.

There was once upon a time a good old Cornish family of the name of
Rosewarne. Well-born, well-to-do gentlepeople they were, who had always
lived in their own fine old house on their own estate, and never knew what
it was to want any comfort or luxury.

The family in time, though, grew larger than their income, and their pride
and their dignity were greater than either, so that in trying to support
the large family according to their larger dignity, the poor little income
got quite swallowed up and the whole family of Rosewarne became involved
in poverty and great difficulties.

Mr. Rosewarne, the father of the last of the family to live on the
property, employed for his lawyer and man of business an attorney called
Ezekiel Grosse, and, as so often happens, as fast as Mr. Rosewarne went
down in the world, his lawyer went up.

Ezekiel grew rich, no one knew how, and prospered in every way; Mr.
Rosewarne grew poor, and lost in every way. Nothing on the property paid,
and at