Why, Nell, you don't mean to say you believe that cock and bull story, that old Davie's been cramming you with, do you?"

"Do I not? my most philosophical and incredulous brother," answered Helen, with an air of mock solemnity, "of course I do, I would not be guilty of such shocking infidelity as not to believe in the family ghost; and I know a most puissant, embryo officer of Her Majesty's Royal Navy, who ran as fast as I did, from a certain shadow, in a certain room; though he declared all the time, that it was only cast by a harmless branch of ivy. Hold,'" she continued, throwing herself into a theatrical attitude of terror, and pointing to the dancing shadows, which the fire was casting on the opposite wall, "look where it comes again! In the same figure, like the king that's dead.''

Ronald burst out laughing, "Why, Nell, you'd do capitally to go on the stage; you quote Hamlet like an actress! But I say, I'd like to ferret out that ghost, I wonder what it would turn out to be? The worst of it is, a fellow can't help feeling rather queer, watching in such a confounded old room, when it's dark, and not knowing what sort of an awful thing he's to expect. I confess, I was in rather a funk, the other day, though it was awfully ridiculous, when one comes to think of it."

"The worst of ghosts, now-a-days," said Helen, mournfully, "is, that they always will turn out to be nothing wonderful after all; it quite takes away the romance of the thing. Do you remember the ghost in Mia and Charlie?' 'The Proud Lady' did sound so delightfully awful and mysterious; you can't imagine how vexed I was when she turned out to be nothing bu ta shadow, after all. Now the White Lady of Avenel was something like, she never did anything so vulgar

as to turn out."

"Oh, you romantic little noodle !" exclaimed Ronald, respectfully, "I don't agree with you at all; now I like ghosts to turn out,' as you call it. I like to get to the bottom of everything, it's such awful rot, to think there are such things as spectres, and bogies, and the rest of them. But I say, what do you think of the prophecy? I hope you don't intend to be the 'Carrock's sister fair,' it talks about, for I won't acknowledge you for mine if you do, so beware! And besides, without I wed Carlaverock's eldest daughter, also, (which hang me if I do,) all your endeavours towards fulfilling it would be in vain. No, down with the Carlaverocks!"

"That's right, Rony," responded Helen, never fear for me. Down with the Carlaverocks!"

"I say," exclaimed Ronald, in sudden trepidation, remembering that his grandmother had once borne the name which he and his sister had just been so vociferously crying down. "I hope Queen Bess hasn't heard us, or we shall be in a fine scrape, I say."

CHAPTER VII.

RONALD'S RESOLVE.

"A life suddenly changed-its whole purpose created afresh; its hopes and fears, its struggles, its interests, and its sacrifices, all turned at once and for ever into a new direction-this is the prospect that now opens before me, like the burst of view from a mountain top."-WILKIE COLLINS, Woman in White.

CHRISTMAS and Midsummer had come and gone, and Ronald was eagerly waiting for the summons to join his father, which was now looked for every day. Captain Carrock had confidently expected to be in England by the end of September at the latest, and they were now in the first days of October, and still no news of him had been received. Ronald was getting very impatient, Helen was tormented nearly out of her life with repeated questions as to what she thought was detaining their father, and even when she had woven a complete romance to account for his non-arrival, and had told Ronald, she was sure that the Queen had heard the fame of Captain Carrock's courage and ability, and had employed him on some difficult and dangerous enterprise, and that after having accomplished it, and achieved prodigies of valour, some rival, jealous of his success, had taken him prisoner, by treacherous means, and was detaining him in some strong fortress, like Richard Cœur de Lion; the perverse boy would find some discrepancies in the story, and insist on disbelieving it.

There was always a race every morning, between the brother and sister, who should be the first to meet the old postman at the gate, and pounce upon the letters, but hope had so often ended in disappointment, that when one morning, Ronald returned with only a newspaper in his hand, Helen declared that she was sure her guess was correct, and that Ronald would have to set out in search of his father, like the faithful Blondel, and play "Hearts of Oak," or "Rule Britannia,” before every castle, till he came to the one in which the object of his search was imprisoned. While the two were eating their breakfast, and chatting to each other in this strain, Mrs. Carrock had taken up the newspaper and was glancing carelessly at the contents. Suddenly

the brother and sister were startled by a sharp, agonized cry, and looking up hastily, saw their grandmother fall senseless from her chair.

Oh, I say!" exclaimed Ronald, completely beside himself with surprise and dismay, while he jumped up in such a hurry as to send his chair to the ground with a bang, and overturn the whole contents of his coffee-cup on the clean table-cloth. "Oh, I say, Helen! what's up now ?" he repeated, darting to the bell, and ringing a violent peal; then seizing the milk-jug he was about to give Mrs. Carrock a bath of its contents, when Helen stopped him, and with more presence of mind, having been accustomed to treat her mother when in a like condition, began moistening Mrs. Carrock's forehead with some eau de Cologne, of which there was a bottle on the chimney-piece. Hardly had she begun doing so, however, when Mrs. M‘Nab, alarmed by Ronald's violent summons, burst into the room, and rushing up to her mistress, pushed Helen aside, exclaiming ;

Bairns, bairns! what hae ye been doin' to my missis? Ech sirs! this comes o' bringin' sich like daft gear in til the hoose. Dear heart, dear heart!" continued the old woman plaintively, wringing her hands, and perfectly distraught with perplexity, "what maun we do? Jessie lass, they've been an' kilt the missis !"

'No, no," said Jessie, who had followed the old cook into the room, “it isna' sae bad as that, it's a bit faint like, that's all; an' there's Dr. Hodgson passin', I'll just call him in, an' we'll hae madam round again in a twinkling, never fear." The Doctor was called in, and ordering Jessie and Mrs. M'Nab to carry the old lady up to bed, he followed, leaving the brother and sister alone.

As soon as the door closed, Ronald seized the newspaper from the floor; but hardly had his eyes fallen upon it, when he threw it violently from him, and with something between a sob and a cry, rushed out of the room. Helen's heart turned sick with undefined dread, and it was some time before she could summon up courage to look at the newspaper, which had already carried desolation to the hearts of her grandmother and brother. At length, with an inward prayer for strength to bear whatever sorrow might be in store for her, she picked up the paper. It was lying open at the list of deaths, which was headed by the following notice :

"On the 20th of

from the effects of a wound received in an engagement with pirates, in the Chinese seas; Post-Captain Wilfred Carrock, Commander of H. M. S. Invincible, aged 46."

The weary day had passed at last, and it was evening. The fire in the library burnt with a dull, red heat, and the white ashes lay thick on the hearth, for no one had found time to arrange the room. The window-curtains were still open, admitting the last glimmer of the waning daylight, which mingled strangely with the red glow of the fire. The wind sobbed among the rowan trees, and heavy rain-drops dashed against the window-panes. The room was very still, so still that one would have thought at first, that it was unoccupied, but it was not so, for through the dim light, the outlines of two figures might be discerned. Sitting on the hearth-rug, with her elbows resting on her knees, and her head supported on her hands, was Helen; her eyes, hot and swollen with crying, gazing vacantly into the glowing caverns of the fire, while the tears, welling up from time to time, clouded her sight with trembling rainbows, and then rolled unheeded down her cheeks.

Crouching in the great arm-chair, with his curly chestnut locks all rumpled, and his face completely hidden, was a boy's figure, in such an attitude of listless grief, that it would have been hard to recognise in it, the merry, mischievous Ronald. Poor boy! that morning's tidings had indeed brought desolation to his young heart. Heavy as the blow had been to Helen, it had fallen with yet more crushing weight on him; for she had seen comparatively little of her father, while to Ronald he had been all in all. That voyage, that foretaste of a sailor's life, had brought Wilfred Carrock and his boy very near to each other, he had been so proud and fond of the spirited lad, who promised to follow in his footsteps with the same gallantry and love of a sea life; and to Ronald, this had seemed the very acme of ambition. His brave sailor father had been the hero to whom he had looked up, with a boy's admiration, and devoted love, and his dearest wish had been for the day to arrive, when he should fight at that father's side. And now? the bright hope was gone for ever, the passionately-loved parent was taken from him, and the cup of sorrow tasted so bitter, so very bitter to those young lips.

The two young mourners had remained in their present position for more than an hour, silent and motionless, for the sorrow of each was too deep for words. Between them, on the hearth-rug lay Wolf, his rough head sunk on his shaggy paws. He too was very quiet this evening, and seemed to feel with his wise dog's instinct, that there was trouble in the house, for he kept his usually restless body so still, while

his bright eyes wandered from Ronald's face to Helen's, from time to time with a sad, uneasy expression. The fire sank lower and lower, and still no one moved, and no sound broke the stillness, but an occasional smothered sob from the depths of the old arm-chair, the wailing of the wind and rain outside, and the dropping of the cinders on the hearth. At length the fire burnt so hollow, that it suddenly fell in with a crash, and a bright flame shot up from the ruins, flickering on the motionless group, and lighting up the oil-painting over the chimney-piece; glinting on the face of the handsome young midshipman whose bodily presence had so lately passed away from the earth, and whose dark eyes seemed looking down from the frame on the son who so strikingly resembled him. Wolf started at the sound of the falling cinders, sat upright on his haunches, and looked at the painted image of his father, then, as if struck by some melancholy thought, or perhaps oppressed by the gloomy stillness, he raised his long muzzle towards the picture, and broke into a long dreary howl. The effect was instantaneous, Ronald started up, and passed his hand across his eyes; it came away very wet, and the eyes looked suspiciously red to belong to one, who always declared that nothing should ever make him cry, "it was so unmanly."

:

Wolf, Wolf!" he exclaimed in a very husky voice, "what's the matter, old boy? come here!" Wolf obeyed, poked his nose into his young master's hand, and after receiving a great many caresses, lay contentedly down again. Ronald then looked at his sister, and their eyes met; he jumped up, and sitting down on the rug by her side, put his arm round her neck. "Oh, Nelly dear, we are all alone now, we have only each other in the world."

Helen turned quickly, and kissing her brother's upturned face said, in a voice choked with tears; "Rony, Rony, we will love each other better than ever, and GOD will help us to bear it.”

Mrs. Carrock's illness lasted for several days, and not once during that time would she consent to see either of her grandchildren. The proud old lady could not bear that they should witness the terrible grief and remorse, which the death of her only son, and the remembrance of her injustice towards him had occasioned her. Some time after the news of Captain Carrock's death reached Carrockcleugh, a box was forwarded to Burnstones, containing the few personal valuables of the late Laird, together with letters, written just before his death, to