“You have no longer a master, Caleb,” said Ravenswood, endeavouring to extricate himself; “why, old man, would you cling to a falling tower?”

“But I have a master,” cried Caleb, still holding him fast, “while the heir of Ravenswood breathes.  I am but a servant; but I was born your father’s—­your grandfather’s servant.  I was born for the family—­I have lived for them—­I would die for them!  Stay but at home, and all will be well!”

“Well, fool! well!” said Ravenswood.  “Vain old man, nothing hereafter in life will be well with me, and happiest is the hour that shall soonest close it!”

So saying, he extricated himself from the old man’s hold, threw himself on his horse, and rode out the gate; but instantly turning back, he threw towards Caleb, who hastened to meet him, a heavy purse of gold.

“Caleb!” he said, with a ghastly smile, “I make you my executor”; and again turning his bridle, he resumed his course down the hill.

The gold fell unheeded on the pavement, for the old man ran to observe the course which was taken by his master, who turned to the left down a small and broken path, which gained the sea-shore through a cleft in the rock, and led to a sort of cove where, in former times, the boats of the castle were wont to be moored.  Observing him take this course, Caleb hastened to the eastern battlement, which commanded the prospect of the whole sands, very near as far as the village of Wolf’s Hope.  He could easily see his master riding in that direction, as fast as the horse could carry him.  The prophecy at once rushed on Balderstone’s mind, that the Lord of Ravenswood should perish on the Kelpie’s flow, which lay half-way betwixt the Tower and the links, or sand knolls, to the northward of Wolf’s Hope.  He saw him according reach the fatal spot; but he never saw him pass further.

Colonel Ashton, frantic for revenge, was already in the field, pacing the turf with eagerness, and looking with impatience towards the Tower for the arrival of his antagonist.  The sun had now risen, and showed its broad disk above the eastern sea, so that he could easily discern the horseman who rode towards him with speed which argued impatience equal to his own.  At once the figure became invisible, as if it had melted into the air.  He rubbed his eyes, as if he had witnessed an apparition, and then hastened to the spot, near which he was met by Balderstone, who came from the opposite direction.  No trace whatever o horse or rider could be discerned; it only appeared that the late winds and high tides had greatly extended the usual bounds of the quicksand, and that the unfortunate horseman, as appeared from the hoof-tracks, in his precipitate haste, had not attended to keep on the firm sands on the foot of the rock, but had taken the shortest and most dangerous course.  One only vestige of his fate appeared.  A large sable feather had been detached from his hat, and the rippling waves of the rising tide wafted it to Caleb’s feet.  The old man took it up, dried it, and placed it in his bosom.