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heard. "What thinks my nephew?" said he. George blushed deeply; and replied that he must confess he had been taught to consider tales of this description as ridiculous———"Ridiculous! (exclaimed Sir James Chaplain,) ridiculous young gentlemen, and wherefore, let me ask yon?" "Because being irreconcileable to truth and nature, they are beneath the dignity of serious argument." Eliza Barnwell, whose modesty did not permit her to trouble the company with her observations, treasured in her memory all that had been said concerning the Abbey. When she retired to her chamber the window of which commanded a view of the ruins site questioned the servant who attended her concerning the story of the haunted Aisle; the encongruous narrative of Hannah increased her curiosity, and she resolved to pay a visit to the Abbey on the following morning as soon as she arose.
Sleep did not conquer the senses of Eliza with its usual ease. A slight slumber brought with it the following dream: Eliza imagined that she had just entered the haunted Aisle, when a tomb that stood at the entrance, appeared to rock at her approach. It then became enveloped in an ascending vapour! the Abbey ruins echoed the groans of one, as if in the agonies of death! and as the vapour dispersed, there appeared kneeling on a tomb, a most beautiful female! Her eyes swelled with weeping, her hair dishevelled, and blood trickling from her wounded breast; while her hands in vain attempted to remove a dagger whose point was buried in her bosom. Eliza's
