Soon afterwards a terrific object was seen hovering at midnight about this fatal spot, taking its position at first upon the “bleeding stone,” but it was ousted by the lord of the manor, who removed the blood-tainted stone to his own premises, to satisfy the timid minds of his neighbours.  But the stone still continued to bleed, nor did its removal in any way intimidate the spectre.  Connected with this alarming midnight visitor, writes a correspondent of The Gentleman’s Magazine, “I remember a circumstance related to me by those who were actually acquainted with the facts, and with the person to whom they refer.  An inhabitant of Buckland, who had attended Reigate Market and become exceedingly intoxicated, was joked by a companion upon the subject of the ‘Buckland Shag,’ whereupon he laid a wager that if Shag appeared in his path that night he would fight him with his trusty hawthorn.  Accordingly he set forth, and arrived at the haunted spot.  The spectre stood in his path, and, raising his stick, he struck it with all his strength, but it made no impression, nor did the goblin move.  The stick fell as upon a blanket—­so the man described it—­and he instantly became sober, while a cold tremor ran through every nerve of his athletic frame.

He hurried on, and the spectre followed.  At length he arrived at his own door; then, and not till then, did the spectre vanish, leaving the affrighted man in a state of complete exhaustion upon the threshold of his cottage.  He was carried to his bed, and from that bed he never rose again; he died in a week.”

Similarly, there is a romantic old legend connected with Kilburn Priory, to the effect that there was formerly, not far distant, a stone of dark red colour, which was said to be the stain of the blood of St. Gervase de Mertoun.  The story goes that Stephen de Mertoun, being enamoured of his brother’s wife, made immoral overtures to her, which she threatened to make known to Sir Gervase, to prevent which disclosure Stephen resolved to waylay his brother and slay him.  By a strange coincidence, the identical stone on which his murdered body had expired formed a part of his tomb, and the eye of the murderer resting upon it, adds the legend, blood was seen to issue from it.  Struck with horror at this sight, Stephen de Mertoun hastened to the Bishop of London, and making confession of his guilt, demised his property to the Priory of Kilburn.

In the same way the Cornishman knows, from the red, filmy growth on the brook pebbles, that blood has been shed—­a popular belief still firmly credited.  Some years ago a Cornish gentleman was cruelly murdered, and his body thrown into a brook; but ever since that day the stones in this brook are said to be spotted with gore—­a phenomenon which had never occurred previously.  And, according to another strange Cornish belief told of St. Denis’s blood, it is related that at the very time when his decapitation took place in Paris, blood fell on the churchyard of St. Denis.  It is further said that these blood stains are specially visible when a calamity of any kind is near at hand; and before the breaking out of the plague, it is said the stains of the blood of St. Denis were seen; and, “during our wars with the Dutch, the defeat of the English fleet was foretold by the rain of gore in this remote and sequestered place.”