her he will or no, and of the downfall of my
family. Last night I felt so feverish that I left my quarters and walked
out, in hopes the keen frosty air would brace my nerves--I cannot tell
how much I dislike going on, for I know you will hardly believe me.
However--I crossed a small footbridge, and kept walking backwards and
forwards, when I observed with surprise by the clear moonlight a tall
figure in a grey plaid, such as shepherds wear in the south of Scotland,
which, move at what pace I would, kept regularly about four yards before
me.'

'You saw a Cumberland peasant in his ordinary dress, probably.'

'No; I thought so at first, and was astonished at the man's audacity in
daring to dog me. I called to him, but received no answer. I felt an
anxious throbbing at my heart, and to ascertain what I dreaded, I stood
still and turned myself on the same spot successively to the four points
of the compass. By Heaven, Edward, turn where I would, the figure was
instantly before my eyes, at precisely the same distance! I was then
convinced it was the Bodach Glas. My hair bristled and my knees shook. I
manned myself, however, and determined to return to my quarters. My
ghastly visitant glided before me (for I cannot say he walked) until he
reached the footbridge; there he stopped and turned full round. I must
either wade the river or pass him as close as I am to you. A desperate
courage, founded on the belief that my death was near, made me resolve to
make my way in despite of him. I made the sign of the cross, drew my
sword, and uttered, "In the name of God, Evil Spirit, give place!" "Vich
Ian Vohr," it said, in a voice that made my very blood curdle, "beware of
to-morrow!" It seemed at that moment not half a yard from my sword's
point; but the words were no sooner spoken than it was gone, and nothing
appeared further to obstruct my passage. I got home and threw myself on
my bed, where I spent a few hours heavily enough; and this morning, as no
enemy was reported to be near us, I took my horse and rode forward to
make up matters with you. I would not willingly fall until I am in
charity with a wronged friend.'

Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the operation of an
exhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on the belief common to
all Highlanders in such superstitions. He did not the less pity Fergus,
for whom, in his present distress, he felt all his former regard revive.
With the view of diverting his mind f