it open. All was hushed as death; but, on a rich
sofa, lay a slight female figure, with the face
turned away. Beside her knelt the diminutive
form of the third member of the party—both of
them motionless, as though carved in stone.

Suddenly, without any change in the attitude
of the body or limbs, the head of the kneeling
figure began to turn. Revolving slowly, as on
a pivot, the face came completely round, and
fronted Harper, as he stood rooted to the spot.
And what a face! Wrought in grey granite,
witli a hideous carved grin, great white
eyeballs in which no pupils were visible, a huge
mocking mouth, seeming to dart out, like
tongues, spiculæ of lurid flame!

Harper—man as he was, and no timid man—
thrilled with a nameless fear, made but three
steps down stairs, and never stopped till he
reached his own domain.

In relating this strange story to us, I observed
that nothing seemed to have impressed him so
strongly as the stony gleam of the woman's, or
fiend's, eyes. His constant reference to this
feature, no doubt, led to the habit we
subsequently acquired, of talking of the personage
alluded to as " Mournivale Stone-Eyes."

Many were inclined to discredit the whole
narrative; but Harper silenced these detractors
by giving notice to his employer, of his desire
to quit his service as soon as arrangements
could be made; and, as he had secured no
provision for himself, it was only reasonable to
believe him actuated by a genuine repugnance
to connect himself with the haunted mansion.

The event next in order, I believe, was this:

The Mournivale property "marches," as they
say in Scotland, on one side with that of Squire
Harlbutt: a country gentleman of considerable
wealth, but who mixed little with the county
society, and had punctiliously avoided his
extraordinary neighbour. He was a magistrate,
and had been one of those present on the occasion
when Corsellis had so defiantly taken the lead
in the proceedings of the bench. He had
returned home not a little disgusted at the treatment
he and his brethren had experienced.

It happened that Mr. Harlbutt received a visit
from his nephew, a captain in the army, who had
been for some time in a local command. He had
commanded a frontier corps at the Cape,
employed in repelling the incursions of the Caffres:
a duty requiring both courage and vigilance,
and not without a certain smack of adventure
greatly to the taste of the young officer.

The mysteries of Mournivale were not long
in reaching his ears, and Captain Harlbutt at
once came to the conclusion that he could not
beguile his three weeks' visit at Fairwoods
better than by unravelling the same.

It was, I think, on the third or fourth day after
his arrival, that a party, organised for the
purpose, assembled by different paths after night-
fall at a certain spot in the woodland. It
consisted of Harlbutt, Charley Tincture, Harper,
a trusty keeper of Harlbutt's famous for seeing
in the dark, and myself.

There was a bright August moon, but she
was occasionally veiled by dense masses of cloud.
We pushed our approaches nearer and nearer
to the house, on the side not surrounded by
gardens, and from which a small side-entrance alone
gave access to the grounds. Just within a cedar-
copse we sat in a circle, like a group of
gentlemanly burglars awaiting their opportunity, the
red sparks of our cigars alone revealing the
whereabouts of each individual.

Harlbutt was in the middle of a Caffre story,
when an exclamation from our look-out, the
keeper, directed our attention to the mansion.
The windows, as usual, from one end to the
other had suddenly become one blaze of lurid
splendour. To this succeeded the accustomed
shrieks and other sounds; the horrible
unearthly laugh, and, what Harper had never
noticed on former occasions, a faint wild wail, like
that of a funeral chant, sung by many voices,
at a distance so remote as only to be occasionally
audible.

Prepared as he was for something unusual,
Harlbutt was struck dumb with genuine amazement
at what he heard and saw.

"An orgy of demons in a country gentleman's
house, in the nineteenth century!" he
muttered, in a bewildered way.

Remark and conjecture were soon abandoned,
and we continued to watch the glowing windows
in silence—silence as deep as that which now
prevailed in the haunted dwelling. As usual, from
twelve o'clock not a sound was heard. But, as
the distant village clock struck one, the hoarse
wild cry pealed forth. Out went the lights like
a single candle, and all was dark and still. We
rose to go.

"Hark!" exclaimed Harlbutt, stopping us.
"I hear a knell!"

We listened. A low muffled sound, like a
passing bell, came faintly on our ears.

"The door is opening," said the quick-sighted
keeper.

Opening it was. And out issued a curious
procession. A bier, or stretcher, covered with a pall,
on which lay a corpse in white, was carried by
four female figures in mourning-dresses. Behind
these walked Sir George Corsellis, his head bare,,
a lady leaning on his arm; last came another
woman, whom Harper recognised by the bright
moonlight as Morgan le Fay. She led, by a
chain, an animal which, but for its head, which
was a dog's, would seem to be a lion, having the
magnificent mane and tufted tail which
characterise the monarch of the forest.

This strange pageant, made still more singular
by the intermittent moon-gleams, at first
(somewhat to our embarrassment) took the
direction of our ambush; but, on approaching the
covert, it inclined to the right, and passed to the
rear of the copse. It was at this time so near,
that Harper recognised the body on the bier as
that of the fearful being we had been accustomed
to speak of as " Mournivale Stone-Eyes." A
sudden dash of moonlight fell upon the scene,
and revealed the terrible grey face, and stone-
white open eyes, as clearly as by day.

It was hastily agreed to thread the copse as