ter of Charity has not been satisfactorily established,
and I think there are reasons to doubt it.

If, for instance, the apparition were that of a Sister of Charity, why
should it appear incongruously attired in a long trailing gown of
lace? And if it were that of a woman of the presumably staid habits of
a Sister of Charity, why should it delight in mischief and play the
pranks of a _poltergeist_? And yet if it wasn't the ghost of Jean,
whose ghost was it?

CASE VIII

THE DRUMMER OF CORTACHY

What ancient Scottish or Irish family has not its Family Ghost? A
banshee--the heritage of Niall of the Nine Hostages--is still the
unenviable possession of his descendants, the O'Donnells, and I, who
am a member of the clan, have both seen and heard it several times. As
it appears to me, it resembles the decapitated head of a prehistoric
woman, and I shall never forget my feelings one night, when, aroused
from slumber by its ghastly wailing, I stumbled frantically out of
bed, and, groping my way upstairs in the dark, without venturing to
look to the left or right lest I should see something horrible, found
every inmate of the house huddled together on the landing, paralysed
with fear. I did not see it on that occasion, but on the following
morning, as I had anticipated, I received the news that a near and
dear relative had died.

Possessing such an heirloom myself, I can therefore readily sympathise
with those who own a similar treasure--such, for example, as the
famous, or rather infamous, Drummer of Cortachy Castle, who is
invariably heard beating a tattoo before the death of a member of the
clan of Ogilvie.

Mrs. Crowe, in her _Night Side of Nature_, referring to the haunting,
says:--

"Miss D., a relative of the present Lady C., who had been staying some
time with the Earl and Countess at their seat, near Dundee, was
invited to spend a few days at Cortachy Castle, with the Earl and
Countess of Airlie. She went, and whilst she was dressing for dinner
the first evening of her arrival, she heard a strain of music under
her window, which finally resolved itself into a well-defined sound of
a drum. When her maid came upstairs, she made some inquiries about the
drummer that was playing near the house; but the maid knew nothing on
the subject. For the moment the circumstance passed from Miss D.'s
mind, but, recurring to her again during the dinner, she said,
addressing Lord Airlie, 'My