f pictures by the best masters, whose massive frames were
somewhat tarnished by time. In this particular also the gloomy taste of
the family seemed to predominate. There were some fine family portraits
by Vandyke and other masters of eminence; but the collection was richest
in the Saints and Martyrdoms of Domenichino, Velasquez, and Murillo, and
other subjects of the same kind, which had been selected in preference
to landscapes or historical pieces. The manner in which these awful,
and sometimes disgusting, subjects were represented, harmonized with the
gloomy state of the apartments,--a circumstance which was not altogether
lost on the old man, as he traversed them under the guidance of his
quondam fellow-soldier. He was about to express some sentiment of this
kind, but Francie imposed silence on him by signs, and opening a door
at the end of the long picture-gallery, ushered him into a small
antechamber hung with black. Here they found the almoner, with his ear
turned to a door opposite that by which they entered, in the attitude of
one who listens with attention, but is at the same time afraid of being
detected in the act.

The old domestic and churchman started when they perceived each other.
But the almoner first recovered his recollection, and advancing towards
Macraw, said, under his breath, but with an authoritative tone, "How
dare you approach the Earl's apartment without knocking? and who is this
stranger, or what has he to do here?--Retire to the gallery, and wait for
me there."

"It's impossible just now to attend your reverence," answered Macraw,
raising his voice so as to be heard in the next room, being conscious
that the priest would not maintain the altercation within hearing of his
patron,--"the Earl's bell has rung."

He had scarce uttered the words, when it was rung again with greater
violence than before; and the ecclesiastic, perceiving further
expostulation impossible, lifted his finger at Macraw, with a menacing
attitude, as he left the apartment.

"I tell'd ye sae," said the Aberdeen man in a whisper to Edie, and then
proceeded to open the door near which they had observed the chaplain
stationed.

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

--This ring.--
This little ring, with necromantic force,
Has raised the ghost of pleasure to my fears,
Conjured the sense of honour and of love
Into such shapes, they fright me from