large masses of rock stand up here and there from
the grassy turf, and clumps of heath and gorse
weave their tapestry of golden and purple
garniture on every side. Amidst all these, and winding
along between the rocks, is a natural foot-way
worn by the scant rare tread of the village
traveller. Just midway, a somewhat larger
stretch than usual of green sod expands, which is
skirted by the path, and which is still identified
as the legendary haunt of the phantom, by the
name of Parson Rudall's Ghost.

But we must draw the record of the first
interview between the minister and Dorothy from
his own words. "We met," thus he writes,
"in the pleasance very early, and before any
others in the house were awake; and together
the lad and myself proceeded towards the
field. The youth was quite composed, and
carried his Bible under his arm, from whence
he read to me verses, which he said he had
lately picked out, to have always in his mind.
These were Job vii. 14: 'Thou scarest me
with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions;'
and Deuteronomy xxviii. 67: 'In the morning
thou shalt say, Would to God it were evening,
and in the evening thou shalt say, Would
to God it were morning; for the fear of
thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and
for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt
see.'

"I was much pleased with the lad's ingenuity
in these pious applications, but for mine own
part I was somewhat anxious, and out of cheer.
For aught I knew, this might be a dæmonium
meridianum, the most stubborn spirit to govern
and guide that any man can meet, and the most
perilous withal. We had hardly reached the
accustomed spot, when we both saw her at
once gliding towards us; punctually as the
ancient writers describe the motion of their
'lemures, which swoon along the ground,
neither marking the sand nor bending the herbage.'
The aspect of the woman was exactly
that which had been related by the lad. There
was the pale and stony face, the strange and
misty hair, the eyes firm and fixed that gazed,
yet not on us, but on something that they saw
far, far away; one hand and arm stretched out,
and the other grasping the girdle of her waist.
She floated along the field like a sail upon a
stream, and glided past the spot where we
stood, pausingly. But so deep was the awe
that overcame me, as I stood there, in the light
of day, face to face with a human soul separate
from her bones and flesh, that my heart and
purpose both failed me. I had resolved to
speak to the spectre in the appointed form of
words, but I did not. I stood like one amazed
and speechless, until she had passed clean out
of sight. One thing remarkable came to pass.
A spaniel dog, the favourite of young Master
Bligh, had followed us, and lo! when the
woman drew nigh, the poor creature began to
yell and bark piteously, and ran backward and
away, like a thing dismayed and appalled. We
returned to the house, and after I had said all
that I could to pacify the lad, and to soothe the
aged people, I took my leave for that time, wlth
a promise that when I had fulfilled certain
business elsewhere, which I then alleged, I
would return and take order to assuage these
disturbances and their cause. January 7, 1665.
At my own house, I find, by my books, what
is expedient to be done; and then, Apage,
Sathanas! January 9, 1665. This day I took
leave of my wife and family, under pretext of
engagements elsewhere, and made my secret
journey to our diocesan city, wherein the good
and venerable bishop then abode. January
10. Deo Gratias, in safe arrival at Exeter;
craved and obtained immediate audience
of his lordship; pleading it was for counsel
and admonition on a weighty and
pressing cause; called to the presence;
made obeisance; and then by command stated
my case—the Botathen perplexity—which I
moved with strong and earnest instances and
solemn asseverations of that which I had myself
seen and heard. Demanded by his lordship,
what was the succour that I had come to
entreat at his hands? Replied, license for my
exorcism, that so I might, ministerially, allay
this spiritual visitant, and thus render to the
living and the dead release from this surprise.
'But,' said our bishop, 'on what authority
do you allege that I am entrusted with faculty
so to do? Our Church, as is well known, hath
abjured certain branches of her ancient power,
on grounds of perversion and abuse.' 'Nay,
my lord,' I humbly answered, 'under favour,
the seventy-second of the canons ratified and
enjoined on us, the clergy, Anno Domini 1604,—
doth expressly provide, that "no minister, unless
he hath the license of his diocesan bishop, shall
essay to exorcise a spirit, evil or good." 'Therefore
it was,' I did here mildly allege, 'that I
did not presume to enter on such a work without
lawful privilege under your lordship's hand
and seal.' Hereupon did our wise and learned
bishop, sitting in his chair, condescend upon
the theme at some length with many gracious
interpretations from ancient writers and from
Holy Scripture, and I did humbly rejoin and
reply, till the upshot was that he did call in his
secretary and command him to draw the aforesaid
faculty, forthwith and without further
delay, assigning him a form, insomuch that the
matter was incontinently done, and after I had
disbursed into the secretary's hands certain
moneys, for signitary purposes, as the manner
of such officers hath always been, the bishop did
himself affix his signature under the sigillum of
his see, and deliver the document into my
hands. When I knelt down to receive his
benediction, he softly said, 'Let it be secret,
Mr. R. Weak brethren! weak brethren!'"

This interview with the bishop, and the
success with which he vanquished his lordship's
scruples, would seem to have confirmed Parson
Rudall very strongly in his own esteem, and to
have invested him with that courage which he
evidently lacked at his first encounter with the
ghost.

The entries proceed: "January 11, 1665.