It was not till we some time afterwards visited the part of the county in which Mr A. resides that we learnt the real cause of his sudden departure from Corby.  The relation of the fact, as it here follows, is in his own words:—­

“Soon after we went to bed, we fell asleep; it might be between one and two in the morning when I awoke.  I observed that the fire was totally extinguished; but, although that was the case, and we had no light, I saw a glimmer in the centre of the room, which suddenly increased to a bright flame.  I looked out, apprehending that something had caught fire, when, to my amazement, I beheld a beautiful boy, clothed in white, with bright locks resembling gold, standing by my bedside, in which position he remained some minutes, fixing his eyes upon me with a mild and benevolent expression.  He then glided gently towards the side of the chimney, where it is obvious there is no possible egress, and entirely disappeared.  I found myself again in total darkness, and all remained quiet until the usual hour of rising.  I declare this to be a true account of what I saw at Corby Castle, upon my word as a clergyman.”

Mrs Crowe, alluding to this story in her “Night Side of Nature,” said that she was acquainted with some of the family and several of the friends of the Rev. Henry A., who, she continued, “is still alive, though now an old man; and I can most positively assert that his own conviction with regard to the nature of this appearance has remained ever unshaken.  The circumstance made a lasting impression upon his mind, and he never willingly speaks of it; but when he does, it is always with the greatest seriousness, and he never shrinks from avowing his belief that what he saw admits of no other interpretation than the one he then put upon it.”

XXIV

CLERK SAUNDERS

“Border Minstrelsy”

    Clerk Saunders and May Margaret
      Walked owre yon garden green;
    And sad and heavy was the love
      That fell them twa between.

    And thro’ the dark, and thro’ the mirk,
      And thro’ the leaves o’ green,
    He cam that night to Margaret’s door,
      And tirled at the pin.

    “O wha is that at my bower door,
      Sae weel my name does ken?”
    “’Tis I, Clerk Saunders, your true love;
      You’ll open and let me in?”

    “But in may come my seven bauld brithers,
      Wi’ torches burning bright;
    They’ll say—­’We hae but ae sister,
      And behold she’s wi’ a knight!’”

    “Ye’ll tak my brand I bear in hand,
      And wi’ the same ye’ll lift the pin;
    Then ye may swear, and save your aith,
      That ye ne’er let Clerk Saunders in.

    “Ye’ll tak the kerchief in your hand,
      And wi’ the same tie up your een;
    Then ye may swear and save your aith,
      Ye saw me na since yestere’en.”