dreams were troublesome and strange. He awoke again, and lay tossing on his hard couch, his thoughts full of the stranger horseman and his marvellous laugh. Though the stranger had shewn himself more complaisant to him than to the rest, and this had, in some degree emboldened him, yet, to divest himself of fear was impossible. He lay long, panting and wishing for the morning light, to deliver him from the horrors that assailed him, till at length, a doubtful lethargy stole over his senses.

He had lain thus-to his conception the time appeared infinite-when a sudden sound seemed to drop upon his ear, and he shivered, as he recognized in it the creak of the stranger's boot, and the clank of his spur, suppressed, as if by the. cautious and stealthy step of the owner: he shrunk under the bedclotheshe listened-the step approached-his nightcap, perforce, abandoned his head-he felt, he knew that the stranger was in his room! Every nerve was unhinged; a cold sweat burst from him; the bed shook audibly under his tremblings; all was silent, till a voice, which the pedlar's fears instantly acknowledged, called him by his name, Peter Tapeyard, shew thy face, man!'

The miserable pedlar, thus invoked, raised his countenance above the bed-linen, and beheld, gazing upon him, the traveller, attired as before. There was the same complacence in his looks that had before been manifested in his demeanour towards the man of goods; but, when the latter, essaying to speak, ejaculated, For the love of God !'-his exordium was cut short by the stranger's altered look; the hue of his face deepened almost to blackness, and his brows contracted hideously, over eyes that suddenly gleamed like plates of fire, with a cold and shining light. The pedlar's faculties were suspended, until the voice of his visitor, jarring on his ear, recalled him from his trance of horror.

'Peter Tapeyard! listen to me,-to thy friend : thou art poor as the poorest of thy trade. Is it

not so ?'

A deep groan, from the pedlar, announced a woful affirmative.

Yes, thou art poor: I know thee well, though thou knowest not me, Peter! and--but look up man! and fear not.'

The pedlar obeyed. The fearfulness of the traveller's aspect had passed away.

Thou would'st wed Mistress Simkins, the landlord's niece. Thou need'st not say aye; thy looks speak for thee, and the girl would have thee.'

Surely she would,' replied the pedlar, ' if-'

If, thou would'st say, thou wert richer. The landlord is a prudent man, and will not trust his chicken to a cold nest. Now, what would'st thou do to get thee wherewith to obtain the damsel?'

'I would,-'exclaimed the pedlar, then stopped abruptly; for all the stories he had recently heard of the evil one and his dealings rushed upon his mind, and he shuddered at the thought of consigning his soul to perdition, even for Cicely Simkins. The stranger laughed his intolerable laugh. Fear not, man! thy soul is safe; what have I to do with thy soul; or who would barter the cast of a bent sixpence for a pedlar's soul,-worn threadbare, too, like thine? But time is short. Listen then; there is hung round the neck of yonder dead fool, a box of gold.'

'Of gold!' exclaimed the pedlar: 'it seemed but as mouldy brass.'

Peace, man!' said the other. I tell thee it is gold; though, to the clowns that thronged hither, it seemed the base thing thou speakest,-else, their reverence for the dead had not held out so long. I wish the gold had been coined into red guineas, such as thou mayest turn them to, if wise. Hesitate not: they call it a charm, to keep away him they call the evil one. Asses! to think a metal box can guard against his power! Remove the box-take it to the goldsmith of the next town-sell it him-marry Cicely Simkinsthrive, and be happy!-What sayest thou?'

The temptations hung out dazzled the pedlar's mind.

He might acquire his Cicely-he need no longer tramp about, with the huge box hanging on his backhe might settle in a snug cottage-he might even, in due season, succeed to Cicely's uncle, in the lucrative supremacy of the Crow and Teapot. And then, where was the harm of taking from the dead what could so well avail the living! besides, here was no contract, supposing his unknown adviser the being he was suspected; there was no agreement to give that gentleman the least control over the natural or spiritual man of Peter Tapeyard. Why, then, should he delay in taking the benefit of the mode pointed out to him of so easily making his fortune?

'Worthy sir!' said he, I will gladly, and with many thanks, accept your kind offer; as soon as daylight'

I know what thou would'st say,' interrupted the other, but it may not be. Daylight will bring hither the coroner, and the quacks of the law, and where then will be thy opportunity? The cock must not crow before thy prize is won: hasten, then, for the morning is coming; report to me at the breakfast board thy success. Up, then, and be active!—the dead tell no tales.'

He seized, as he concluded, the arm of the pedlar, as if with the purpose of enforcing his recommendation of a speedy completion of the undertaking. A cry of horror burst from the tortured and terrified man of wares, as he sprung from his trance, awakened by the burning grasp of the stranger. He opened his eyes, and, looking around, found himself alone. The pain that had so acutely pierced him was vanished. He arose from his bed, and looked from the narrow casement: the moon was up, and shining broadly and brilliantly. He looked into the yard--he gazed at the door of the stable, in an outer part of which lay the corpse. Should he descend or not?-Was his dream a mere phantom of a disturbed imagination, or an actual indication of a speedy way to the acquisition of wealth? He wavered-turned towards his bed,-when, in so VOL. II. Sept. 1830.

M

doing, his eye fell upon the sleeve of his shirt. It was burnt, as if a band of glowing iron had surrounded it; and, on his arm, was scorched the visible impress of a man's hand. Here was a sufficing proof of the reality of the visit with which he had been favoured. He descended the stairs softly and fearfully, casting about him many a wistful look. Often did he stop to tremble and to doubt, as the wind whistling through some crevice, or the cough of a sleeper, arrested his attention. Once, he thought some one passed him ;— a cold sweat testified his terrors. More than once, his flesh quivered like a jelly; for he thought he saw glaring on him, through the darkness, the cold blood-chilling light of eyes not mortal.

He gained the yard-he approached the stable-door; he would have lingered, but could not-suspense was worse than all his fears could fashion. He rushed in -he stood by the dead-seized the box that hung suspended to the neck of the deceased. Ere he could remove it, the cock sounded his triumphing note.-The traveller's steed, at the moment, neighed loud and shrill! The pedlar snatched away his prize, and darted, in an agony of terror, from the spot. He thought the stranger passed him, as he went, dark and frowning;-and his eyes!-at last, he regained his chamber.

Early in the morning, as the stranger had predicted, came the officers of the law, to hold an inquest over the body of Gripe Gibbons, Esq. Nothing satisfactory was elicited, as to the manner of his death; the verdict of accidental death' was returned, and preparations had been made for interring the deceased in the afternoon.

The stranger appeared not at breakfast; nor had any one seen him since the preceding evening,-the pedlar excepted, who had reasons for not being communicative on the subject. Many were the debates occasioned by the traveller's absence; nor was the disappearance of the amulet overlooked, which all connected with the strange guest. All who had been terrified on

the preceding evening, resorted to the inn to satisfy their curiosity, bringing with them multitudes of others, who knew, by hearsay only, what had happened; so that, if the landlord had profited little by Gripe Gibbons, Esq. in his life-time, that gentleman proved a source of considerable emolument to him when dead.

The parish-clerk, too, called in, on his way to church, a double degree of mysterious importance in his demeanour, from the events of the preceding night. He spoke little-doubted not the evil one was looking after the soul of the dead-and intimated the propriety of a watch being kept, that night, in the church-yard. As usual on such occasions, his advice was much approved, but not followed; for no one cared to put himself in peril, for the sake of Mr. Gibbons' soul.

The only known relative of the deceased, the successor to all his wealth, attended as mourner, in the ceremony of interment, which was performed without parade. The church was not more than a stone's throw from the house; but, from some reason, the bearers thought proper to take a circuitous route, running by the Deadman's Clough, the place where the body had been discovered. They paused a moment, as they arrived there. It was a dismal spot-a dark dreary hollow, whose rugged sides were thick with brambles and wild shrubs. It was filled with vapours, and the rank vegetation that grew there was wet with pestilent dews. A solitary elm, whose black and leafless arms were flung around with a spectrous wildness, grew near the bottom of the abyss. It was under the half-covered roots of this tree, that a truant lad had been frightened, nigh out of his senses, by discovering the body of the defunct; which, preserved by an intense frost, was, at the end of three weeks' exposure, yet recognizable. All gazed, with fearful interest,but most the pedlar, who sprung back with horror; for, through the gloom which filled the place, it seemed to him that he discerned, fixed upon him, the glaring eyes whose cold light he too well remembered. They proceeded, and the funeral was duly solemnized.