Mrs. Eden caused instant search to be made at
the spot to which he had intended to proceed,
when the body was discovered, cold and stiff—the
murderous weapon, a stone-hammer, lying
beside him.

Another example of this species of warning
attracted some attention in the "burking"
times at Edinburgh—the voice of one of the
victims, recognised under circumstances
irreconcilable with any known law of nature, having
led to the suspecting, and thence to the conviction,
of the assassins.

A gentleman, lately living, used to relate that
while resident near Fort George, N. B., the
disappearance of an old woman, who, from her
strict and sober habits, was employed by the
whole neighbourhood as a messenger, created
much excitement. Nothing could be discovered
respecting her. The search, at the instance
of her husband, was at length discontinued.
One evening Mr. H. was sitting reading in his
arbour, when the missing woman suddenly thrust
her head through the leafy shield! There was a
broad crimson streak round her neck, and, without
her uttering a word, an impression seemed
to be conveyed to Mr. H.'s mind that she had
been murdered, and that her body lay concealed,
under stable refuse, in a distant byre. Search
was made there, the corpse was found, and the
husband was subsequently executed, on his own
confession of the crime.

In the French courts, questions of ghost, or
no ghost—and, if the former, what might be the
worth of the ghost's testimony—seem to have
been permitted a wider range. Counsel has
been freely heard on either part. In a case that,
many years ago, stirred up the whole philosophy
of the subject, so much curious matter was
elicited as to make the record worth preserving.
It is an illustration of the familiar manner in
which a not distant generation dealt with the
subject.

Honoré Mirabel, a poor labourer on the
estate of a family named Gay, near Marseilles,
invoked the protection of the law under the
following extraordinary circumstances:

He declared that, while lying under an
almond-tree, late one night, striving to sleep,
he suddenly noticed a man of remarkable appearance
standing, in the full moonlight, at the
window of a neighbouring house. Knowing
the house to be unoccupied, he rose to question
the intruder, when the latter disappeared. A
ladder being at hand, Mirabel mounted to the
window, and, on entering, found no one. Struck
with a feeling of terror, he descended the
ladder with all speed, and had barely touched
the ground, when a voice at his back accosted
him:

"Pertuisan" (he was of Pertuis), "there is a
large treasure buried close at hand. Dig, and
it is yours."

A small stone was dropped on the terrace, as
if to mark the spot alluded to.

For reasons not explained, the favoured
Mirabel shrank from pursuing the adventure
alone, but communicated with a friend, one
Bernard, a labourer in the employ of the
farmeress Paret. This lady being admitted to
their confidence, the three assembled next night
at the place indicated by the spectre, and, after
digging to a considerable depth, came upon a
large parcel wrapped in many folds of linen.
Struck with the pickaxe, it returned, unmistakably,
the melodious sound of coin; but the
filthy, and, as Paret suggested, plague-stricken
appearance of the covering, checked their eager
curiosity, until, having been conveyed home and
well soaked in wine, the parcel was opened, and
revealed to their delighted gaze more than a
thousand large gold pieces, subsequently
ascertained to be Portuguese.

It was remarkable, yet so it was, that Mirabel
was allowed to retain the whole of the treasure.
Perhaps his friends felt some scruple in
interfering with the manifest intentions of the
ghost. But Mirabel was not much the happier
for it. He feared for the safety of his wealth—he
feared for his own life. Moreover, the prevailing
laws respecting "treasure-trove" were
peculiarly explicit, and it was questionable how
far the decision of the ghost might be held to
override them.

In France, of treasure found in the highway,
half belonged to the king, half to the finder. If
in any other public place, half to the high
justiciary, half to the finder. If discovered by
magical arts, the whole to the king, with a
penalty upon the finder. If, when discovered, the
treasure were concealed from the proprietor of
the ground, the finder forfeited his share. To
these existing claims the phantom had made no
allusion. In his perplexity, honest Mirabel
bethought him of another friend, one Auguier,
a substantial tradesman of Marseilles.

The advice of this gentleman was, that the
secret should be rigorously confined to those
who already knew it, while he himself (Auguier)
was prepared to devote himself, heart and soul,
to his friend's best interests, lend him any cash
he needed (so as to obviate the necessity of
changing the foreign money), attend him
whithersoever he went, and, in fine, become his
perpetual solace, monitor, and guard.

To prevent the possibility of his motives
being misinterpreted, the worthy Auguier took
occasion to exhibit to his friend a casket, in
which was visible much gold and silver coin,
besides a jewel or two of some value.

The friendship thus happily inaugurated
grew and strengthened, until Mirabel came
to the prudent resolution of entrusting the
whole treasure to the custody of his friend,
and appointed a place and time for that
purpose.

On the way to the rendezvous, Mirabel met
with an acquaintance, Gaspard Deleuil, whom
—Auguier being already in sight—Mirabel
requested to wait for him at the side of a thicket;
then, going forward, he handed to the trusty
Auguier two sealed bags, one of them secured
with a red ribbon, the other with a blue, and
received in return an instrument conceived in
the following satisfactory terms: