and his vehement accusers were assembled. Here was, indeed, triumphant proof of the devoted monk's delinquency -such a scandal was only to be washed off in the blood of the criminal; and that forthwith.

Two lusty lay monks were sum. moned; the habit he had disgraced was torn off the stupefied Brother Philip; and on his brawny back was written that day, such a rubric, as confined him to his cell for a month!

Roger Cavendish, the burly Franklin of Hardwick, told how Father Redhood had put on the appearance of a virtuous student, and made love to a goldsmith's wife, at Chesterfield, and so contrived matters, that the jealous husband surprised the youth (or rather the demon who represented him) on his knees, making passionate love to his virtuous spouse. Her tempter fled from the presence of the enraged husband; while the insulted wife, with many tears, trembling, and shewing every token of honest aversion and indignation, with the greatest difficulty convinced her good man that the audacious and criminal suit of the student, had been as great a shock and astonishment to her as to himself; and finally, to wipe away every vestige of suspicious doubt (some clouds of which hung on Master Turbervile's brow), she vowed to join heart and hand with her husband, in avenging, bloodily avenging her insulted honour.

Now Hugh and Martha Turbervile (such was the name of the mercer and his wife) had one fair daughter, and no more, exceeding comely, and who, from the day of her birth to that time, when she had nearly accomplished her eighteenth year, had, by her beauty, amiability, and filial duty, been a source of unmingled pride and delight to her parents. May Turbervile had long loved, and been beloved by the student, whose shape the Redcowl had so mischievously assumed. Their mutual affection had been kept no secret from the parents-in whose plainly furnished, but comfortable, and wellstored domicile, Bernard Wickham, the student, had lodged some two years or more. The mercer and his wife had contemplated, without displeasure, the progress of their daughter's love affair; for although Bernard Wickham was poor and fatherless, yet he was of a gentle strain; his figure noble, his countenance frank and joyous, and his whole demeanour courteous and captivating to simple souls like Turbervile and his dame, while his proficiency in solid learning,

added to his adroitness in the popular sciences of the day, in their eyes more than compensated his deficiency in the golden gifts of fortune. He was to be their son-in-law.

But now all was changed;-Dame Martha, then in the matured bloom of meridian comeliness, had heard, with almost incredulous disgust and indignation -and Master Turbervile had witnessed, with unutterable fury, that empassioned and infamous suit which the restless malice of The Gory Cowl had poured forth under the appearance of the illstarred Bernard Wickham, who, at that moment, unconscious of the hellish përsonation, was rambling in the romantic neighbourhood of Bolsover Castle. What thoughts of blissful love and ambitious hope glowed and glittered on his gentle, but lofty soul, as he trod that field-path from the bowery village of Glapwell, overshadowed with thick smooth beech trees, and twinkling with rich hyacinths; and then pacing gently homewards, as the summer sun declined, entered the Lime-tree terrace, commanding the broad and dry valley of Scarsdale, and fenced on the east with the cotes and granges of Pallerton.

On his entering the mercer's house, which had now been so long his home, he fancied at first that he perceived some unaccountable alteration in the manner of his host and hostess, and they, for their parts, we may be well assured, were confounded at the assurance of their guest, which could enable him to return with a brow as clear, an eye as lively, and a tongue as gay and frank as ever, to that house from which his unprincipled conduct had so precipitately expelled him, some three or four hours agone.

Their measures, however, had been taken too deliberately to be easily disconcerted; and the enormity of the provocation, hid every other thought from the minds of Turbervile and his wife, save the fatal vengeance on which they had resolved. Accordingly, with some effort, they dismissed the cold and confused manner with which they had received young Bernard, and, during the supper, at which the lovely May presided, nothing further transpired to excite the conjectures of their victim, except that his betrothed was more silent than usual; and, at times, darted glances at him from her beautiful eyes, ob! how different from the expression he had hitherto always welcomed there! make the tale short:-that very night the student was murdered in his sleep

To

of the village pond, and the creaming pails, whose rich fluid amply attested the good qualities of many a red and dun and speckled cow, that from behind the hedge-rows of the neighbouring croft, loaded the cool evening air with clouds of fragrant breath.

Within, the Grange, presenting a corresponding appearance of wealth and comfort, resounded ever with the cheerful sounds of industry and contentment. No tapestry coloured its walls with gorgeous story,-but the thick rafters groaned beneath the loads of ponderous flitch, and monstrous ham; no glass emblazed the latticed windows with legendary or heraldic lore; but the dim panes of horn kept out the storm, and gave light enough for thrifty house

The next that contributed to this string of horrors, this garland of nightshade, as one of the revellers wittily termed it, was Michael Granger, the wealthy farmer of Arbury; and his story ran thus :

"It is not so many years agone, since the old grange at Greenthorp was one of the most comfortable, as well as the largest homestead in Leicestershire. The huge ricks of wheat and barley stood like pavilions of gold in the farm-yard; the granaries were as big as castles, and the lovery of the dovecote just shone in the sun like a living rainbow; with the pigeons strutting and fluttering in and out of their round wooden doors; a plenteous banquet for them was there; for the music of the flail was seldom silent on the threshing floor, and you might see them by hundreds on the great steep gables of the barns (with craws just bursting from their abundant meal), cooing, and bridling, and ogling round the favoured fair of their tribe.

High elm trees, the monuments of centuries, rose like jealous warders about the homestall itself, shaking their thick boughs and dark twinkling leaves over its farrago of chimnies and gable pinnacles; and it was gladsome to see, on a bright summer evening, Gaffer Holland, with his dame, in the wide wooden porch, watching alternately the frolics of two fine rosy boys, and the successive arrivals of their labourers from their day's toil; the sleek team pacing lazily in, with their tinkling bells and jingling harness; the flocks of plump gray and white geese, feathering themselves by the green turf

beds,-but they were of the sweetest and whitest woollen and linen, the produce of the good wife's own spinning-wheel; and the sleep of labour was too deep, and pleasant, to be disturbed by the shrieking owl from the granary, or the croak of the great night raven, from the ancient King's Yew (as it was called) in the garden.

One night in November (it was Saint Clement's eve) the family were assembled in the huge kitchen at Greenthorp. The hour was that most social one whether in cote or castle-the interval between supper and bed-time.

The Gaffer and Gammer occupied the siege of state, a wide and high-backed wicker settle found around the reredoss; and, through the fleecy flame-tinged smoke that wreathed up to the lovery, you might see the lusty hind, whose jaws, having now done masticating, were beginning to indulge those mighty yawns foreboding snores still more tremendous; while the reeky scullion with her gay lockram, stood looking reproachful on her rustic admirer, so oblivious of her attractions. It was a still night without, and a drowsy hour within the homestall; you might hear the bell ringing lauds from the tall tower of Bulkington, and the pittering cricket in the kitchen oven, blended with the complacent purr of greymalkin, when suddenly, a chorus of tiny voices at the door, began the well known carol,

"Katherine and Clement be here, be here;

Some of your apples and some of your beer;
Some for Peter, and some for Paul,
And some

A loud shriek as from many childish throats here broke off the chant,-and their little feet were heard by the asto

nished family scurrying away with the hasty patter of scared sheep.

Master Holland, leaving his chair, hastened to unbar and unlock the door; and, with his family who crowded behind him, was not a little shocked to find an aged man, robed in the grey dress of a pilgrim, stretched across the outer threshold of the porch, and apparently in the agonies of death.

The moonlight, showering in pale flakes through the open balustrades of carved wood-work that formed the sides of this farmhouse portico, fell upon the stranger's countenance with ghastly lustre. His eyes were closed, his cheeks and forehead like parchment upon a skull, and his hand resembled nothing so much as a cluster of dry bones. Not a moment was lost by the hospitable Gaffer and Gammer, in raising the wanderer and bearing him into the kitchen by the help of two lusty hinds. Cordials and various other restoratives succeeded to a certain extent in calling back suspended life; the unknown stirred and groaned, and then breathed more freely, but, beyond that, all the means applied by the compassionate farmer and his wife made no progress.

The stranger not only could not or would not speak, but his eyes also remained firmly closed; and, at last, despairing of doing any thing more for their unbidden guest, they resolved on having him carried to the chamber of dais; and there, amidst the homely finery of painted cloth hangings, and a cumbrous bedstead of clumsily carved oak, with red serge curtains, the pilgrim was left to receive what benefit he might from kind nature's best physician, the posset cup of ebony hooped with silver and its rich cordial, being carefully placed on the huge elmine coffer with iron hinges and brass lock at the bed's head.

Ill was this hospitable tenderness requited! The tempest which arose in the night, though it blew down ricks, unroofed barns, and even twisted the weathercock on Bulkington steeple all awry, -was nothing to the consternation and agony of the family at Greenthorp Grange, when on the following morning the two lovely lads were discovered in their beds by their shrieking mother, stone dead, but without the slightest mark of violence on either of their persons. Of the mysterious pilgrim much was reported and much contradicted. Hob the ploughman, asserted that he saw him at dawn stalk deli

berately out at the porch, and walk down the avenue towards Bulkington. Dick the shepherd, positively averred that he beheld him, with his own eyes, fly, like a wild goose, over the high tops of the elms, with his grey gown all streaming and fluttering in the fiercest hurly-burly of the storm; while some belated travellers declared that, when they passed the house, the Grange windows seemed all aflame, and a gigantic figure in a grey gown was seen stalking through the chambers, holding a child by the middle in each hand, and knocking their heads together. However, poor Gaffer Holland and his wife are now dead, broken-hearted; and as for Greenthorp Grange, once so flourishing and cheerful, it is now a hideous, desolate and avoided place. The only compassionate visitor is the sun, and he can scarce pierce through the wilderness of foliage with which solitary seasons have overwhelmed the lonely dwelling; or else the moon, and she streams sadly upon smokeless chimneys, clattering lattices, and unroofed barns!

The traveller, in those parts, may see an old-fashioned homestall with heavy bunches of octagon chimneys and baywindows of dingy lozenged horn, the rick-yard vacant, no dog at the gate, no cat on the threshold; no curling volumes eloquent of cheer; no living forms of noisy children; no flail in the barn, no chanticleer or partlet in the green court; nothing that betokens habitation and life: but there is a garden at the side and a flower plot in front; and the lilies, and roses, and stocks, and rockets, toss there their beautiful proud heads, scenting the gloomy air, and flouting the empty, blind, and envious homestall. And the fruits gleam forth from their foliage wondering that there is no hand to gather them: and the contrast is melancholy between their lively forms proffering unheeded sweets, and prolific in unprofitable treasures,—and the old mouldering Grange, sullenly shut up, silent, and dark, and useless, loathing as it were the wealthy loveliness of that rampant vegetation; which, untamed by the hand of man, wantonly entrammels the windows, blockades the doors, and bows over the very roofs and chimneys of that once beloved abode ! This also (men say) was the deed of the Red-cowled fiend. Lordings, my say is said!

It was from the deep, manly, and melodious voice of Sir Arthur Basset, the young knight of Drayton, that the

next legend of the Red Hood proceeded; and his tale related to a domestic tragedy in the family of the Lord Ferrers of Tamworth Castle, in which the demon Friar was said to have been a chief

actor.

It ran thus,

A youth and maiden, in the fair burgh of Tamworth, were fondly attached to each other; but the parents of either family opposed their union on the grounds that neither possessed the wealth, which the rank, the comliness, or the accomplishments of the other, might warrant each to expect as their dower. The father of the young man, Edmund Baron Ferrers, was more distinguished by his prowess in the wars of his sovereign King Stephen, than by much riches; and Sir Oswald Roby of the Moathouse, had too many olive branches round about his table, and too fruitful a vine on the walls of his house, not to make it imperatively necessary, in his eyes at least, that Bertha (the eldest and transcendently most beautiful of his ten daughters), should shed a genial lustre over her family by the splendour of her matrimonial alliance. And thus matters stood; the Lord Baron and Sir Oswald, sufficiently cordial in other respects, were most marvellously unanimous on this point.

"Your daughter is a maiden of absolute perfections, my worthy friend," would the former say, "but Edmund has no fortune save his sword!"

"A fairer match my lord, is not to be found in the barony, than the noble knight your son," would be the reply, "but then Bertha has no diamonds beside her eyes!"

This tantalizing state of affairs between the two lovers, who, constantly thrown into each other's society, were as constantly strengthening their inauspicious affection, was, at length, brought to a crisis by the appearance of a rival suitor for Bertha's hand; and he was as ungracious, as ill favoured, and as rich, as can well be imagined. This last consideration outweighed every other in the judgment of her parents; and, as in those days fathers made short work in such matters, Bertha was formally affianced, and, in one little month, was to

be the bride of the wealthy Lord Ingleby

of Timmoor Hall.

was

Her true knight, of course, frantic at the intelligence, and was to be seen pacing the green meadows of the crystal Tame, telling his sorrows to its rolling tide, or, in the deep vaulted

courts of Tamworth Castle, glaring motionless on the impassive moon, as she glided overhead, giving herself no further trouble about him and his, than to paint the parapets, and corbelles and towers, most accurately in black and white upon the flagged pavement,—or else standing at midnight on the donjon bartizan, striving to read a brighter fortune in the coruscant lamps that fretted the dark heaven with gold.

As thus he stood, one night, amidst the dead hush of man and of his works, the gables of the castle-mill looming largely down by the river below, the lights dying one by one in the little town, and the curfew, that commanded their extinction, tolling its hollow requiem from the stately church belfry, whose pinnacles stood up in the distance gloomily depictured on the starry sky, not a breeze stirring, and even the impetuous gushing of the Tame through the dam floodgates, which the miller had just lifted, coming with a soft and sleepy influence to the ear; Sir Edmund became aware that the castle chaplain Father Clement, a celebrated Carmelite preacher, stood at his side. He was too much accustomed to be thus sought out in his distracted solitudes by the kindly friar, to feel any surprise at his presence, and too well convinced of his benevolent motives, to express the annoyance he felt at this intrusion. But the feelings he thus suppressed were rapidly superseded by others of a more quickening and pleasurable nature, when the worthy Carmelite, after the usual common topics of advice and consolation, to which doubtless the lovesick knight lent an attentive and respectful ear, imparted to him the startling intelligence of a vast treasure in gold and jewels which he had discovered in the vault of a ruinous Saxon chapel in the neighbourhood; the secret of this splendid discovery was in his breast alone; but having, as he said, no wish nor indeed use for such baubles, he promised on the following day to guide the

DRY PEOPLE.

(For the Parterre.)

"O noble thirst !-yet greedy to drink all!" ANON.

Ir is astonishing what makes people so dry. Can it be owing to some peculiarity of physical organization? Ever since the earth drank up the flood, individuals have been born upon it of a very arid temperament, who have followed the earth's example, and swallowed every thing that came in their way-excepting water. The ancients had their dry people-that is, their wet hands-their thirsty souls; and one Anacreon took uncommon pains to inform the world that he was fond of good liquor; but, strange to say, extreme drought never prevailed, to any great extent, in the hot soils and fervid climates of Asia, Africa, and eastern and southern Europe;-it was only as men migrated northward and westward that they became like the soil they trod upon, everlastingly saturated with fluids. And do what people would, there was no getting clear of the infliction. Many schemes were tried. The Saxons, in particular, set resolutely to work to overcome this preternatural thirst. They got up early in the morning, and drank till late at night, but without any beneficial effect, for the more they drank, the drier they became. "This will never do," quoth the Saxons, "we must try a change of cli

mate."

they could not fight with order and discretion, and the Normans had it all their own way.

For many generations after this, the Saxons continued to slake their thirst, and the Normans to look after the lands, goods, and chattels of their very dry neighbours. By degrees, however, the races mingling and intermingling, and marrying and intermarrying, the one became just as dry as the other; and so, between them, they manufactured a people who, through successive centuries, have evinced an unremitting zeal and extraordinary capability for the imbibition of all kinds of moisture-except spring and rain water. This people, too, have displayed a remarkable predilection for scattering themselves abroad-east, west, north, and south; and have planted their colonies in all nooks, corners, and quarters of the globe; and most strange to say, all these colonies, without a single exception, in every age and every clime, have turned out (particularly towards the westward) very dry people. This shews that the complaint must be in part hereditary.

The individual performances of some of those inveterately dry folks are really astonishing. We are prone to wonder at, and make much of, any thing that happened long ago, rather out of the common, especially if it chance to be incorporated in a book. Many a very little matter thus attains the pompous dignity of an historical fact, and people gape and marvel at it through all time. For instance, how much astonishment is expressed, and how many eyes upturned, at the story of the army of Xerxes drinking up a river at a single draught, whilst far more extraordinary feats, in our own day and generation, are passed by without note or comment. The ancient exploit, after all, was no such great matter; more especially when we come to take into account the bulk of the many-mouthed army, and the size of the river, with a due allowance for the Asiatic habit of exaggeration, and the Greek aptitude for lying. Why there are thousands of modern instances where men have succeeded, certainly not at a single draught, but by a steady perseverance in one line of conduct, in swallowing considerable tracts of country-large estates, parks, grounds, farms, orchards, lakes, and fishponds,-cattle, sheep, game, and poultry,-houses and household furniture;-after which, they have drank fame, name, and credit ;-and finally, by a species of legerdemain, un