nsidered groundless superstition on his part, the young man could
not shake off his fears, replying to his father, "Perhaps before long
you also may be sorrowful." On the night of that very day the son
died, and here ends the strange story of the swans of Closeburn.[39]

Similarly, whenever two owls are seen perched on the family mansion of
the noble family of Arundel of Wardour, it has long been regarded as a
certain indication that one of its members before very long will be
summoned out of the world; and the appearance of a white-breasted bird
was the death-warning of the Oxenham family, particulars relating to
the tragic origin of which are to be found in a local ballad, which
commences thus[40]:

Where lofty hills in grandeur meet,
And Taw meandering flows,
There is a sylvan, calm retreat,
Where erst a mansion rose.

There dwelt Sir James of Oxenham,
A brave and generous lord;
Benighted travellers never came
Unwelcome to his board.

In early life his wife had died;
A son he ne'er had known;
And Margaret, his age's pride,
Was heir to him alone.

In course of time, Margaret became affianced to a young knight, and
their wedding-day was fixed. On the evening preceding it, her father,
in accordance with custom, gave a banquet to his friends, in order
that they might congratulate him on the approaching happy union. He
stood up to thank them for their kind wishes, and in alluding to the
young knight--in a few hours time to be his daughter's husband--he
jestingly called him his son:--

But while the dear unpractised word
Still lingered on his tongue,
He saw a silvery breasted bird
Fly o'er the festive throng.

Swift as the lightning's flashes fleet,
And lose their brilliant light,
Sir James sank back upon his seat
Pale and entranced with fright.

With some difficulty he managed to conceal the cause of his
embarrassment, but on the following day the priest had scarcely begun
the marriage service,

When Margaret with terrific screams
Made all with horror start.
Good heavens! her blood in torrents streams,
A dagger in her heart.

The deed had been done by a discarded lover, who, by the aid of a
clever disguise, had managed to station himself just behind her:--

"Now marry me, proud maid," he cried,
"Thy blood with mine shall wed";
He dashed the dagger in his side,