Chapter 8 - Page 2

appeared in the attitude of lamentation. But the
impression was only momentary, and whenever he looked steadily to the
point where he conceived the figure appeared, it always proved that he
had mistaken some natural object, a white crag, or the trunk of a
decayed birch-tree with its silver bark, for the appearance in
question.

Father Eustace had dwelt too long in Rome to partake the superstitious
feelings of the more ignorant Scottish clergy; yet he certainly
thought it extraordinary, that so strong an impression should have
been made on his mind by the legend of the Sacristan. "It is strange,"
he said to himself, "that this story, which doubtless was the
invention of Brother Philip to cover his own impropriety of conduct,
should run so much in my head, and disturb my more serious thoughts--I
am wont, I think, to have more command over my senses. I will repeat
my prayers, and banish such folly from my recollection."

The monk accordingly began with devotion to tell his beads, in pursuance
of the prescribed rule of his order, and was not again disturbed by any
wanderings of the imagination, until he found himself beneath the little
fortalice of Glendearg.

Dame Glendinning, who stood at the gate, set up a shout of surprise and
joy at seeing the good father. "Martin," she said, "Jasper, where be a'
the folk?--help the right reverend Sub-Prior to dismount, and take his
mule from him.--O father! God has sent you in our need--I was just going
to send man and horse to the convent, though I ought to be ashamed to
give so much trouble to your reverences."

"Our trouble matters not, good dame," said Father Eustace; "in what
can I pleasure you? I came hither to visit the Lady of Avenel."

"Well-a-day!" said Dame Alice, "and it was on her part that I had the
boldness to think of summoning you, for the good lady will never be able
to wear over the day!--Would it please you to go to her chamber?"

"Hath she not been shriven by Father Philip?" said the monk.

"Shriven she was," said the Dame of Glendearg, "and by Father Philip,
as your reverence truly says--but--I wish it may have been a clean
shrift--Methought Father Philip looked but moody upon it--and there
was a book which he took away with him, that--" She paused as if
unwilling to proceed.

"Speak out, Dame Glendinning," said the Father; "with us it is your
duty to have no secrets."

"Nay, if it please your reverence, it is not that I would keep
anything from your reverence's knowledge, but I fear I should
prejudice the lady in your opinion; for she is an excellent
lady--months and years has she