hat the king's intentions were not hostile,
whereby he would be exposed to the ridicule and scorn of both king and
subjects. Having beat off Scott's retainers, and secured in this way, as
he thought, a fancied victory, he marched direct on to his own Tower;
and, as he approached, sounded his horn in his usual way, to tell his
wife that he entertained no fear, and to impress upon the mind of the
king the boldness of the innocence of a man who had only been performing
an act of self defence, in teaching an old enemy that he would not
commit an assault upon him again with impunity.

In the course of time, Marjory Cockburn recovered slightly from the
effects of these terrible visitations, and often she expressed her
surprise that Lailoken's prophecy about the elm tree had not been proved
by the events of that night; but some people thought that King James,
who knew the prophecy well, wished to reduce the credit of soothsaying,
and therefore hanged Cockburn on the buttress of the Tower, instead of
the tree. Her little children played, as usual, round her; and, if a
relenting fate had had in reserve any means for alleviating her grief,
surely they might have been found in the prattle of innocence, and the
hopes of a mother; but it was not ordained that she should be thus
relieved. Every day saw a change on her; she gradually declined, till
she took on the appearance of a skeleton. About three years after the
death of Cockburn, Marjory died, doubtless, of that disease which
(though discredited by many altogether) kills more mortals than typhus
itself--a broken heart. The property had previously been escheated to
the king, and the name of the Cockburns of Henderland never flourished
again. She was buried in the grave of her beloved Parys; and some
relation, who knew the loves and misfortunes of the pair, caused the
foresaid stone to be erected, with the inscription we have copied, and
shall copy again--"Here lie Parys of Cockburn and his wife Marjory."

FOOTNOTES:

[3] The old story of Scott of Harden and the hay sow, is well
known.

[4] Few travellers on the Borders have passed unnoticed the
"lady's seat."--ED.

THE EXPERIMENTER.

No one who has escaped an imminent danger can resist the impulse that
compels him to look back upon it, although the recollection harrows up
his soul. It is now nearly thirty years since the events of which I
write occurred; still they are as indelibly impressed upon my memory as
the