Remorden's gate, and out stepped a dark man—they said he was her father. Then shots were heard, and presently the dark man came out, dragging the lady by the arm, and after flinging her into the carriage away they went as fast as they came. Soon after this Remorden went away across the water and we never saw him again; and then it came out that he had spent more than he should, and was obliged to live abroad till things came round. However, he soon died; and then the estate fell to George Remorden, his nephew; a wild one he was. At the end of two years he hadn't a rap to bless himself with; and then the house was shut up, and has been going to ruin ever since; and this here last business'll do for it entirely."

"And who does it belong to now?" inquired one of the auditors.

"To that same Squire George, if he's alive," replied the woman; "but it's years sin we see him here. He was a fine young gentleman as you'd wish to see before he took to gaming and bad company—and there wasn't a girl in the village but her head was turned for him. There was Judith Lake—Lake the carpenter's sister—she drowned herself for love of him. I remember the day, as if it was yesterday. We were going