“The cross of Christ about us,” said the old woman, turning suddenly pale.

“What is the matter, my good friend,” said I; “you seem frightened.”

“Oh, no, no, your ladyship,” said the old woman, endeavouring to conceal her agitation; but in vain, for tottering towards a chair, she sunk into it, looking so deadly pale and horror-struck that I thought every moment she would faint.

“Merciful God, keep us from harm and danger,” muttered she at length.

“What can have terrified you so,” said I, beginning to fear that she had seen something more than had met my eye, “you appear ill, my poor woman.”

“Nothing, nothing, my lady,” said she, rising; “I beg your ladyship’s pardon for making so bold; may the great God defend us from misfortune.”

“Martha,” said I, “something has frightened you very much, and I insist on knowing what it is; your keeping me in the dark upon the subject will make me much more uneasy than any thing you could tell me; I desire you, therefore, to let me know what agitates you; I command you to tell me.”  “Your ladyship said you saw a black curtain falling across the door when you were coming into the room,” said the old woman.

“I did,” said I; “but though the whole thing appears somewhat strange I cannot see any thing in the matter to agitate you so excessively.

“It’s for no good you saw that, my lady,” said the crone; “something terrible is coming; it’s a sign, my lady—­a sign that never fails.”

“Explain, explain what you mean, my good woman,” said I, in spite of myself, catching more than I could account for, of her superstitious terror.

“Whenever something—­something bad is going to happen to the Glenfallen family, some one that belongs to them sees a black handkerchief or curtain just waved or falling before their faces; I saw it myself,” continued she, lowering her voice, “when I was only a little girl, and I’ll never forget it; I often heard of it before, though I never saw it till then, nor since, praised be God; but I was going into Lady Jane’s room to waken her in the morning; and sure enough when I got first to the bed and began to draw the curtain, something dark was waved across the division, but only for a moment; and when I saw rightly into the bed, there was she lying cold and dead, God be merciful to me; so, my lady, there is small blame to me to be daunted when any one of the family sees it, for it’s many’s the story I heard of it, though I saw it but once.”

I was not of a superstitious turn of mind; yet I could not resist a feeling of awe very nearly allied to the fear which my companion had so unreservedly expressed; and when you consider my situation, the loneliness, antiquity, and gloom of the place, you will allow that the weakness was not without excuse.  In spite of old Martha’s boding predictions, however, time flowed on in an unruffled course; one little incident, however, though trifling in itself, I must