THE STORY OF SIR GAWEN.

From the Speculator.

TOWAR OWARDS the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII. Sir Gawen, a man of some fortune and considerable curiosity, fond of enterprize and insatiate of knowledge, travelled through the northern counties of England. The following singular adventure is still extant among the family writings, and is still recorded by his posterity. It was towards sunset (saith the manuscript) when Sir Gawen, after having traversed a very lone and unfrequented part, arrived at the edge of a thick and dark forest: the sky was suddenly overcast, and it began to rain, the thunder rolled at a distance, and sheets of livid lightning flashed across the heath. Overcome with fatigue and hunger, hé rode impatiently along the borders of the forest, in hopes of discovering an entrance, but none was to be found. At length, just as he was about to dismount, with an intention of breaking the fence, he discerned, as he thought, something moving upon the heath, and, upon advancing towards it, it proved to be an old woman gathering peat, and who, overtaken by the storm, was hurrying home as fast as her infirm limbs could carry her. The sight of a human creature filled the heart of Sir Gawen with joy, and hastily riding up, he enquired how far he had deviated from the right road, and where he could procure a night's lodging. The old woman now slowly lifted up her palsied head, and discovered a set of features which could scarcely be called human; her eyes were red, piercing, and distorted, and, rolling horribly, glanced upon every object but the person by whom she was addressed, and, at intervals they emitted a fiery disagreeable light; her hair, of a dirty grey, hung matted with filth in large masses upon her shoulders, and a few thin portions rushed abrupt and horizontally from the upper part of her forehead, which was much wrinkled, and of a parchment hue; her cheeks were hollow, withered, and red with a quantity of acrid rheum; her nose was large, prominent, and sharp; her lips thin, skinny, and livid; her few teeth black; and her chin long and peaked, with a number of bushy hairs, depending from it's extremity: her nails also were acute, crooked, and bent over her fingers, and her garments ragged and fluttering in the wind, displayed every possible variety of colour. The knight was a little. daunted, but the old woman having mentioned a dwelling at some distance, and offering to lead the way, the pleasure received from this piece of news effaced the former impression, and getting from his horse, he laid hold of the bridle, and they slowly moved over the heath. The storm had now ceased, and the moon rising gave presage of a fine night, just as the old woman, taking a sudden turn, plunged into the wood by a narrow path, and almost choaked up with a quantity of briar and thorn. The trees were thick, and save a few glimpses of the moon, which now and then poured light on the uncouth features of his compa

nion, all was dark and dismal; the heart of Sir Gawen misgave him, neither spoke, and the knight pursued his guide merely by the noise she made in hurrying through the bushes, which was done with a celerity totally inconsistent with her former decripitude. At length the path grew wider, and a faint blue light, which came from a building at some distance, glimmered before them; they now left the wood and issued upon a rocky and uneven piece of ground, the moon struggling through a cloud, cast a doubtful and uncertain light, and the old woman with a leer, which made the very hair of Sir Gawen stand on end, told him that the dwelling was at hand. It was so, for a Gothic castle, placed on a considerable elevation, now came in view; it was a large massy structure, much decayed, and some parts of it in a totally ruinous condition; a portion, however, of the keep, or great tower was still entire, as was also the entrance to the court or enclosure, preserved probably by the ivy, whose fibres crept round with solicitous care. Large fragments of the ruin were scattered about, covered with moss and half sunk in the ground, and a number of old elm trees, through whose foliage the wind sighed with a sullen and melancholy sound, dropped a deep and settled gloom, that scarcely permitted the moon to stream by fits upon the building. Sir Gawen drew near; ardent curiosity mingled with awe dilated his bosom, and he inwardly congratulated himself upon so singular an adventure, when turning round to question his companion, a glimpse of the moon poured full upon his eye so horrid a contexture of feature, so wild and preternatural a combination, that, smote with terror, and unable to move, a cold sweat trickled from every pore, and immediately this infernal being seizing him by the arm, and hurrying him over the draw-bridge to the great entrance of the keep, the portcullis fell with a tremendous sound, and the kinght, starting as it were from a trance, drew his sword in act to destroy his treacherous guide, when instantly a horrible and infernal laugh burst from her, and in a moment the whole castle was in an uproar, peal after peal issuing from every quarter, till at length growing faint they died away, and a dead silence ensued. Sir Gawen, who, during this strange tumult, had collected all his scattered powers, now looked round him with determined resolution; his terrible companion had disappeared, and the moon shins ing full upon the portcullis, convinced him that any escape that way was impracticable; the wind sighed through the elms, the scared owl uttered his discordant note, broke from the rustling bough, and a dim twinkling light beamed from a loop-hole near the summit of the great tower. Sir Gawen entered the keep, having previously reasoned himself into a state of cool fortitude, and bent up every power to the appalling enterprize. He extended his sword before him, for it was dark, and proceeded carefully to search around, in hopes either of discovering some aperture which might lead to the vestibule or stair-case, or of wreaking his vengeance on the wretch who had thus decoyed him. All was still as death, but as he strode over the floor, a dull hollow sound issued from beneath, and rendered him apprehensive of falling through into some dismal vault, from which he might never be able to extricate himself. In this situation, dreading the effect of each light footstep, a sound, as of many people whispering, struck his ear; he bent forward, listening with eager attention, and as it seemed to proceed from a little distance before him, he determined to follow it: he did so, and instantly fell through the mouldering pavement, whilst at the same time peals

of horrid laughter again burst with reiterated clamour from every chamber of the castle. Sir Gawen rose with considerable difficulty, and much stunned with the fall, although fortunately the spot he had dropped upon was covered with a quantity of damp and soft earth which gave way to his weight. He now found himself in a large vault, arched in the Gothic manner, and supported by eight massy pillars, down whose sides the damp moisture ran in cold and heavy drops, the moon shining with great lustre through three iron grated windows, which, although rusty with age, were strong enough to resist the efforts of Sir Gawen, who, after having in vain tried to force them, looked around for his sword, which, during the fall, had started from his grasp; and in searching the ground with his fingers, he laid hold of, and drew forth, the fresh bones of an enormous skeleton, yet greasy and moist from the decaying fibres; he trembled with horror; a cold wind brushed violently along the surface of the vault, and a ponderous iron door, slowly grating on it's hinges, opened at one corner, and disclosed to the wandering eye of Sir Gawen a broken stair-case, down whose steps a blue and faint light flashed by fits, like the lightning of a summer's eve. Appalled by these dreadful prodigies, Sir Gawen felt, in spite of all his resolution, a cold and death-like chill pervade his frame, and kneeling down, he prayed fervently to that power, without whose mandate no being is let loose upon another, and feeling himself more calm and resolved, he again began to search for his sword, when a moon-beam falling on the blade at once restored it to it's owner.

Sir Gawen having thus resumed his wonted fortitude and resolution, he held a parley with himself, and perceiving no other way by which he could escape, boldly resolved to brave all the terrors of the staircase; and, once more recommending himself to his maker, began to ascend. The light still flashed, enabling him to climb those parts which were broken or decayed. He had proceeded in this manner a considerable way, mounting, as he supposed, to the summit of the keep, when suddenly a shrill and agonizing shriek issued from the upper part of it, and something rudely brushing down grasped him with tremendous strength; in a moment he became motionless, cold as ice, and felt himself hurried back by some irresistible being: but just as he had reached the vault, a spectre of so dreadful a shape stalked by within it, that straining every muscle he sprang from the deadly grasp: the iron door rushed in thunder upon it's hinges, and a deep hollow groan resounded from beneath. No sooner had the door closed, than yelling screams, and sounds which almost suspended the very pulse of life, issued from the vault, as if a troop of hellish furies, with their chains untied, were dashing them in writhing frenzy, and howling to the uproar. Sir Gawen stood petrified with horror; a stony fear ran to his very heart, and dismayed every sense about him; he stared wild, with his long locks upstanding stiffly, and the throbbing of his heart oppressed -him. The tumult at length subsiding, Sir Gawen recovered some portion of strength, which he immediately made use of to convey himself as far as possible from the iron door, and presently reached his former elevation on the stair-case, which, after ascending a few more steps, terminated in a winding gallery. The light, which had hitherto flashed incessantly, now disappeared, and he was left in almost total darkness, except that now and then the moon threw a few cool rays through some broken loop-holes, heightening the horror of the scene.. He dreaded

going forward, and fearfully looked back, lest some yelling fiend should again plunge him into the vault. He stood suspended with apprehension a mournful wind howled through the apartments of the castle, and listening, he thought he heard the iron door grate upon it's hinges: he started with terror, the sweat stood in big drops upon his forehead, his knees smote each other, and he rushed forward with desperate despair; till, having suddenly turned a corner of the gallery, a taper, burning with a faint light, gleamed through a narrow dark passage: Sir Gawen approached the light; it came from an extensive room, the folding doors of which were wide open: he entered; a small taper in a massy silver candlestick stood upon a table in the middle of the room, but gave so inconsiderable an illumination, that one end was wrapped in palpable darkness, and the other scarcely broken in upon by a dim light that streamed through a large ramified window, covered with thick ivy. An arm-chair, shattered and damp with age, was placed near the table, and the remains of a recent fire were still visible in the grate. The wainscoat, of black oak, had formerly been hung with tapestry, and several portions still clung to those parts which were near the fire; they possessed some vivacity of tint, and with much gilding yet apparent on the chimney-piece, and several mouldering reliques of costly frames and paintings, gave indisputable evidence of the ancient grandeur of the place. Sir Gawen closed the folding-doors, and taking the taper, was about to survey the room, when a deep hollow groan from the dark end of it smote cold upon his heart; at the same time the sound, as of something falling with a dead weight, echoed through the room. Sir Gawen replaced the taper, the flame of which was agitated, now quivering, sunk; now streaming, flamed aloft; and as the last pale portion died away, the scarcely distinguished form of some terrific being floated slowly by, and again another dreadful groan ran deepning through the gloom. Sir Gawen stood for some time incapable of motion; at length, summoning all his fortitude, he advanced, with his -sword extended, to the darkest part of the room: instantly burst forth in fierce irradiations a blue sulpherous splendor, and the mangled body of a man distorted with the agony of death, his every fibre racked with convulsion, his beard and hair stiff and matted with blood, his mouth -open, and his eyes protruding from their marble sockets, rushed on the fixed and maddening senses of Sir Gawen, whose heart had beat no more, had not a hiss as of ten thousand fiends, loud and horrible, roused him from the dreadful scene; he started, uttering a wild shriek, his brain turned round, and running he knew not whither, burst through the folding-doors. Darkness again spread her sable pall over the unfortunate Sir Gawen, and he hurried along the narrow passage with a feeble and a faltering step. His intellect shook, and, overwhelmed with the late appalling objects, had not yet recovered any degree of recollection, and he wandered as in a dreain, a confused train of horrible ideas passing unconnected through his mind: at length, however, memory resumed her function, resumed it but to daunt him with harrowing suggestions; the direful horrors of the room behind, and of the vault below, were still present to his eyes, and as a man whom hellish fiends had frightened, he stood trembling, pale, and staring wild. All was now silent and dark, and he determined to wait in this spot the dawn of day, but a few minutes had scarcely elapsed, when the iron door, screaming on it's hinges, bellowed through the murmuring ruin. Sir Gawen nearly