former Lord of Dunblane sold himself to
the devil in this room; the plain English
of which is, I imagine, that he committed
some foul crime there. At all events, this
room has remained shut up for centuries;
and it was predicted by one of those sibyls,
who were given to such utterances, that, if
ever the secret were made known the ruin
of the house would follow."

"Why," I exclaimed, " this is the
second prophecy that has been made about
the Dunblanes! One pays dearly for
belonging to these great families if one is to
be subject to all these superstitions. Do
you know if the room is ever opened?"

"Yes, I believe so, once a year; when, if
possible, the three who are in possession of
the secret meet here. My father never
speaks on the subject, of course, nor does
Lord Dunblane."

I asked who the heir-at-law was. He
told me they had had difficulty in finding
him out. He was in some office in London,
and in very poor circumstances, being
descended from a younger branch of the
Dunblanes, who had gone to settle in
England in the beginning of the last century.

After some further conversation, Pilson
took his leave, and I thought very little
more about Lord Dunblane and his affairs,
having concerns of my own which fully
occupied my thoughts at that time.

Some weeks later I received, to my
surprise, a letter from Lord Dunblane, saying
that he had just heard from his man of
business, Mr. Pilson, that I was returned
from India, and living in Aberdeen; and
that it would give him great pleasure to
see me again, if I would pay him a visit at
Dunblane Castle. He named a day when
he was expecting a party; but added that
if this time was not convenient to me, I
could write myself, and propose some later
date. It would have been ungracious to
have refused such an invitation. Indeed, I
was fully sensible of the honour, though I
anticipated but little pleasure from this
visit, under the present circumstances. A
press of business retained me in Aberdeen
just then, but I promised to write, and I
did write, some weeks later, to his lordship,
proposing to accompany Mr. Pilson,
who informed me that he was going to
Dunblane Castle: for I reflected that as the
stage would take me no further than Nairn,
we could share a post-chaise together,
which would lighten the cost of a journey,
in which business had no part. His lordship
replied, in a few lines, to say I should
be welcome; and accordingly, on the tenth
of April, 1804, Pilson and I left Aberdeen
by the stage, which started at six A.M., and
reached Dunblane Castle late that afternoon.
It was getting dusk as we drove up
to this magnificent remnant of the feudal
age—a pile which impressed one with a
sense of the power which must have
belonged to the Dunblanes in past ages, and
heightened their claim to consideration, in
my eyes at least, more than the finest
modern palace could have done. It was the
grandest specimen of this style of
architecture I ever saw, of vast extent, its
sky-outline bristling with pointed turrets, its
grey walls crowning a steep height covered
with venerable Scotch firs, a dry moat
surrounding it, and a gateway leading into a
courtyard, which occupied nearly an acre,
and round which the castle was built.

Lord Dunblane met us in the hall. The
nine years which had elapsed since we had
parted had wrought changes in us both, no
doubt; but in the man I saw before me I
should scarcely have recognised my
fellow-student had I met him in the streets of
Aberdeen. He was grown very large, and
on his face, which was lined far beyond his
years, the hard, wild look which had been
transient formerly, had settled down,
apparently, into its habitual expression. He
received me kindly, but there was no smile,
as he shook my hand. The light had died
out of the face, never to be rekindled.
He told me I should have but a dull visit,
he feared. "Had you come six weeks ago
when I wanted you, you would have met a
country gathering: not that I like that
sort of thing: I hate it; but you and I
were always very different, Carthews.
Now you will find no one; and I have a
good deal of business with Mr. Pilson, so
that I must leave Lady Dunblane to entertain
you." I assured him that I should be
perfectly happy, exploring the beauties of
the park and adjoining forest, and begged
him not to consider me for a moment.
After that he led me up-stairs to the
drawing-room, where Lady Dunblane was seated
alone.

The first impression produced on every
one by her ladyship's beauty could not but
be favourable. She was a brunette; tall,
with lively eyes and brilliant teeth, which
she showed a great deal when she laughed,
and dark brown hair, cut short and
dishevelled in loose waves over her head.
Upon this occasion, however, I saw nothing
but a curl or two; for she wore a species
of helmet, much affected, as I afterwards
learnt, by women of condition, in that day,
whose husbands commanded regiments of
yeomanry, as did Lord Dunblane. Being