caster Castle good luck shall be,
Till the charmed cup is broken.

Some things, again, have gained a strange notoriety through the force
of circumstances. A curious story is told, for instance, of a certain
iron chest in Ireland, the facts relating to which are these: In the
year 1654, Mr. John Bourne, chief trustee of the estate of John
Mallet, of Enmore, fell sick at his house at Durley, when his life was
pronounced by a physician to be in imminent danger. Within twenty-four
hours, while the doctor and Mrs. Carlisle--a relative of Mr.
Bourne--were sitting by his bedside, the doctor opened the curtains at
the bed-foot to give him air, when suddenly a great iron chest by the
window, with three locks--in which chest were all the writings and
title deeds of Mr. Mallet's estate--began to open lock by lock. The
lid of the iron chest then lifted itself up, and stood wide open. It
is added that Mr. Bourne, who had not spoken for twenty-four hours,
raised himself up in the bed, and looking at the chest, cried out,
"You say true, you say true; you are in the right; I will be with you
by and bye." He then lay down apparently in an exhausted condition,
and spoke no more. The chest lid fell again, and locked itself lock by
lock, and within an hour afterwards Mr. Bourne expired.

There is a story current of Lord Lovat that when he was born a number
of swords that hung up in the hall of the house leaped, of themselves,
out of the scabbard. This circumstance often formed the topic of
conversation, and, among his clan, was looked upon as an unfortunate
omen. By a curious coincidence, Lord Lovat was not only the last
person beheaded on Tower Hill, but was the last person beheaded in
this country--April 9, 1747--an event which Walpole has thus described
in one of his letters, telling us that he died extremely well, without
passion, affectation, buffoonery, or timidity. He professed himself a
Jansenist, made no speech, but sat down a little while in a chair on
the scaffold and talked to the people about him.

And Aubrey, relating a similar anecdote of a picture, tells us how Sir
Walter Long's widow did make a solemn promise to him on his death-bed
that she would not marry after his decease; but this she did not keep,
for "not long after, one Sir----Fox, a very beautiful young gentleman,
did win her love, so that, notwithstanding her promise aforesaid, she
married him. They were at South Wrathall, where the picture of Sir
Walter