THE

KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE.

SEPTEMBER, 1842.

ELLERTON CASTLE;

A Romance.

BY "FITZROY PIKE."

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH.

TREATS OF THREE MIDNIGHT VISITORS TO THE RUINS OF ELLERTON CASTLE.

BEFORE we proceed, it is demanded that we state certain facts relative to the preceding chapters, which, no doubt, the reader has already supplied out of the private funds of his own imagination.

When Kate Westrill was carried off by Simon Byre before the eyes of Annette de Vermont, Annette, so soon as she had recovered from her surprise, hurried back to alarm the house, and call the inmates to her rescue. Heringford, Mat Maybird, and Sir Hubert de St. Fay, followed immediately in pursuit, leaving to De Vermont the duties of the master, and Willie Bats, as much by his own desire as by the especial commands of his Cicely, followed also, to do his best for the recovery of Kate Westrill. Mat Maybird led them to the cave;-how they found it, and what induced them to suspect that the conspirators were there, what little we quoted of the old chronicles of Ellerton has been sufficient to explain; they remained therefore in the village, at Heringford's cottage.

Now, in that same night to which the events of the last two chapters are referred, Willie Bats dreamed a dream,-and the dream was a dream of a treasure, and the treasure was concealed among the ruins of Ellerton Castle. Awaking after this dream,

and observing that it was bright moonlight, he considered it would be more profitable to seek this treasure, than to turn himself to sleep again in idleness. So Willie Bats arose, and the noise he made while searching about the cottage for a pickaxe and a spade, aroused Mat Maybird. Mat guessed, for he knew by experience the idea with which Willie was possessed; and calling to Heringford, -for he needed not to awaken one to whom by misery sleep had been denied,-proposed to follow the treasure-hunter, for the perpetration of any jest, to which occasion might give opportunity. Edward had but little thought of jesting, yet he arose; for he had long been weary of his bed, and thought to find, perhaps, under the canopy of heaven, the peace which sleep would not afford. When, therefore, Willie had found the pickaxe and departed, Mat Maybird and Edward followed. Willie bent his steps directly towards the castle, but as they passed beneath the cliff, Mat Maybird discovered Kate Westrill in her perilous position, and Mat and Heringford were thenceforth occupied in the more important adventure recently narrated. Willie Bats, therefore, went on his way alone, and when he had arrived at the castle ruins, proceeded immediately to the spot indicated by his dream, without staying for an instant to moralize on the long shadows that the moonlight cast, the light that streamed from the windows as though the grim ruin had regained its tenants, or indeed on anything at all, except so far upon the moon as to observe that it fortunately permitted him to carry on his work without a lanthorn.

Placing his cap-the immortal camlet, which he considered not as yet worn out, although he did promise himself a new one on his wedding day-placing his cap very carefully upon a stone, and tucking up his sleeves, Willie Bats commenced work in good earnest; down lightly glanced his spade into the earth, and he raised it heavy with a heap of stones; and stones, and stones, and stones rose to a mountain by his side as he laboured indefatigably.

"This treasure lieth deep," said Willie, without a shadow of despair; "oh, charming Cicely, for thy sake could I but succeed! With one treasure,-I would seek no more,-how happily might we live together! Invigorated by the thought, Willie still laboured, but in vain. Willie might have whistled, for he knew a tune,-he had compounded one out of the combined melody of three slow ditties and two quick ones, together with the words of four that were exceedingly lively; but he did not whistle it, so busily

was he engaged-so busily, that he did not see the otherwise remarkable old lady who was looking on upon his operations. "This treasure eh? Who are you ?"

To save ourselves a description we will name her-Jessamine. Willie Bats looked at the hag in undisguised astonishment. "Thou seekest treasures here?" said she.

Willie was afraid to speak, for he was thinking about ghosts, and so he nodded his assent.

"Go, then,-go, stranger!-There is none here now. Once, when this castle stood, proud and erect, there was a treasure in it,—now it is lost-lost now! And he who owned it seeks, and seeks in vain." The hag shook her head, partly with palsy, partly with feelings that seemed compounded of sadness and exultation. Willie did not examine them minutely; he thought the spirit came to tell him of a treasure, and his heart leapt as he thought next of Cicely.

"Where is it?" cried he, eagerly, and so loudly, that even Jessamine could hear; "where is it? Only tell me where?" The withered arm of the old crone pointed to the chapel, "There!—there is a tomb there, simple and broken as was the heart of her it holds,there lies the treasure!-Wouldst know what it is ?-Dust and corruption, man; in those old times, a girl,-a lovely girl!"

Willie thought the ghost talked unpleasantly, and desired to depart; Jessamine seemed to favour his desire.

"Go," said she, "there is nought here worth searching forthere is no treasure now !"

The old woman hid her face within her hands, and continued long in silence. When she looked up again, Willie was gone; but there was another whom she saw passing in the moonlight among the ruins he came near her soon-Sir Richard Ellerton.

"Ha!" shrieked Jessamine, "comest thou too to seek thy treasures here! Welcome, old master; I have bade thee, ere now, welcome to the castle; and I have bade thee too adieu !"

Sir Richard Ellerton turned pale, but strove to suppress his

emotions.

"I thought thou hadst perished," he replied; "cross not my path."

"Didst hope that I had perished?" replied the woman; "but the hopes of the wicked man are seldom justified."

"Canst preach to me, too, Jessamine?" replied Sir Richard, "and that within these walls, mocking thine own iniquity? Jessamine,

look even here!-What room was this within whose ruins we now stand? was it not here, hag, that thine accursed lies were poured into my ear? Here, Jessamine, didst thou utter forth the pestilential breath that blasted the fair love I had for Beatrice. And here knelt she; knelt she-the pure and virtuous-before thee, thou devil! -bade thee tremble at thy falsehood, pity the heart that never thought thee harm. She spurned thee here, at last; and then, with vengeance in thine eye, here was the counsel given that thy black heart prompted. There, there stood Jessamine, and poured the poison out, now sits she here and taunts me with my crime !"

"Speak fairly, master," replied Jessamine, "I cannot hear thee, but by thy face I think thou speakest ill. Be wary, for if I betray"

Sir Richard grasped her arm and shouted in her ear, "Jessamine, betray—but we must die together-mind, they will put thee to the rack--'

"Think not, master, by alarming me that thou wilt save thyself," replied Jessamine. "But fear not yet,-I do not think to harm thee; only, Sir Richard, see thou use me well; and-for I would have thee quake-remember this, that I am but a rock of sand to build upon."

Thus speaking, and shaking herself free, Jessamine left Sir Richard among the ruins.

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-NINTH.

THE BROTHER'S DEATH.

SIR HUBERT DE ST. FAY until the next morning was ignorant of the occurrences of the night, since all the actors had been too intent upon their own schemes to think of any but themselves. In the morning, however, he was informed of what had happened, which filled him with the greatest joy. But the pleasure of all parties was clouded by the fear that Kate Westrill never might recover; and the intelligence which they received from Father Francis was but little calculated to dispel their dread. Kate had slept, but without refreshment, and was still insensible to all that passed around her; living only in her own delusions.

Under these circumstances Sir Hubert thought it most advisable at once to carry into effect a design which he had entertained of journeying to London. Heringford would only be harassed by daily hearing of Kate's health; returning after a few days he might be sensible of her improvement. She could not be better than under the care of Father Francis; the presence of others was unnecessary. Willie Bats, however, thought of Cicely to wait on her, and Sir Hubert acquiesced in the propriety of the idea; Willie, therefore, was despatched to Carnwood upon Prento's juvenile successor, a little pony presented to him by Sir Hubert, which was bidding fair to rival, in his master's estimation, the glories of his ardent predecessor. At the same time Willie was to request De Vermont to continue to supply Sir Hubert's place, and perform among the tenantry those daily duties in which he formerly had taken share. (We may here observe that Willie's tale of the castle ghost had obtained no credit as more than a mere dream, more especially as he had thought himself entitled by the nature of the subject to garnish it with an ad libitum running accompaniment of thunder and lightning, subterranean fire, groans, &c. The hint, therefore, on which Edward and his friends might have acted, had they suspected Jessamine was near, was allowed to be passed over with neglect.)

Contrary to his own wishes, but in obedience to the force of reasoning, Heringford accompanied Sir Hubert to London, and Mat Maybird went too, urged much by curiosity, for he had been told that there was business on foot between himself and his majesty, King Henry.

"What on earth," said Mat Maybird, as they journeyed, "can Rex Henricus Quintus want with me?"

"He is in thy debt," said Sir Hubert, "for much service done in France, and-"

“And”—continued Mat-" and will he knight me?—and if so, what shall I be then ?"

"Sir Matthew Maybird."

"Sir Matthew!—Pah!-Let the king or any man dare to call me Matthew!"

"Treason, Mat! treason!"

"Worse treason Matthew, by far!"

We will not linger over the days spent in London :-Sir Hubert took his friends to court, where King Henry for the first time saw in the brave soldier Bruton, de St. Fay also, the benevolent land