way to eſcape their fury, imagining they were on the point of being devoured by them.
Croſſing themſelves, they betook them to their prayers, wondering how in ſo perilous a ſituation they could have neglected ere then to pray for aſſiſtance from whom alone they could hope to receive it.
The building ſhook to its foundation; the maſſy gate was heard flapping to and fro; the beaſts howled; the iron armour fell with a horrid noiſe; the raven flapped his heavy wing, and his ſcreams echoed through the wide hall. Suddenly all was ſtill; nor light, nor found met their eyes or ear. They liſtened, but in vain; at length Edmund broke the fearful ſilence, by propoſing, as nought appeared to oppoſe their progreſs, they ſhould quit the frightful abode they were in.
But though the king agreed to the propoſition, it was not in their power to put it in practice; for the doors, which diſtinctly had been heard to open, were now ſhut.
A kind of ſtupor invaded every ſenſe, and they ſunk on the pavement, inſenſible to the horrors of the place, and wrapt in ſleep which reſembled that of death.
When they awoke (after having remained ſome time in the utmoſt inſenſibility) they found themſelves ſafe in the court of Scotland.
THE
STORY OF
RAYMOND CASTLE,
By Mr. Bacon.
From the Monthly Cabinet.
On the borders of Scotland, in an obſcure glen, ſurrounded by a deep and almoſt impaſſable moat, formerly ſtood the cattle of the baron Raymond; once the favourite reſidence of that noble family. The exiſting baron had retired from this ſeat of his progenitors, about
