society, an artistic and social celebrity, went to stay at Glamis Castle for the first time.  She was allotted very handsome apartments just on the point of junction between the new buildings—­perhaps a hundred or two hundred years old—­and the very ancient part of the castle.  The rooms were handsomely furnished; no grim tapestry swung to and fro, all was smooth, easy, and modern, and the guest retired to bed without a thought of the mysteries of Glamis.  In the morning she appeared at the breakfast table cheerful and self-possessed, and, to the inquiry how she had slept, replied, “Well, thanks, very well, up to four o’clock in the morning.  But your Scottish carpenters seem to come to work very early.  I suppose they are putting up their scaffolding quickly, though, for they are quiet now.”

Her remarks were followed by a dead silence, and, to her surprise, she noticed that the faces of the family party were very pale.  But, she was asked, as she valued the friendship of all there, never to speak on that subject again, there had been no carpenters at Glamis for months past.  The lady, it seems, had not the remotest idea that the hammering she had heard was connected with any story, and had no notion of there being some mystery connected with the noise until enlightened on the matter at the breakfast table.

At Rushen Castle, Isle of Man, there is said to be a room which has never been opened in the memory of man.  Various explanations have been assigned to account for this circumstance, one being that the old place was once inhabited by giants, who were dislodged by Merlin, and such as were not driven away remain spellbound beneath the castle.  Waldron, in his “Description of the Isle of Man,” has given a curious tradition respecting this strange room, in which the supernatural element holds a prominent place, and which is a good sample of other stories of the same kind:  “They say there are a great many fine apartments underground, exceeding in magnificence any of the upper rooms.  Several men, of more than ordinary courage have, in former times, ventured down to explore the secrets of this subterranean dwelling-place, but as none of them ever returned to give an account of what they saw, the passages to it were kept continually shut that no more might suffer by their temerity.  But about fifty years since, a person of uncommon courage obtained permission to explore the dark abode.  He went down, and returned by the help of a clue of packthread, and made this report:  ’That after having passed through a great number of vaults he came into a long narrow place, along which having travelled, as far as he could guess, for the space of a mile, he saw a little gleam of light.  Reaching at last the end of this lane of darkness, he perceived a very large and magnificent house, illuminated with a great many candles, whence proceeded the light just mentioned.  After knocking at the door three times, it was opened by a servant, who asked him what he wanted.  “I