Fair shone the moon over Craig Aran on Midsummer Eve, proudly soaring above the Peak in her fleecy white cloud-coverings, which ever and anon stooped low to wrap its dark summit for a moment in their soft embrace, then rising again into the deep blue heaven were wafted far into its mysterious heights by the gentlest of summer breezes. Far below the Peak lay the silent lake, black and dreadful in the shadow of the mountain, and around it reigned an unearthly stillness, unbroken by song of bird or distant sheep-bell, such as by day were wont to break from time to time the dead silence, for now it was midnight, and as Percival Vere stood at the summit of the Peak and gazed at the dim, mysterious expanse of hill and dale, it seemed to him that all the world was sleeping, save himself; and to the young chaplain, but newly ordained to his holy office, there seemed a fitting harmony between the silent, awful beauty of this midnight scene and his own thoughts, beautiful in their new-found, sacred joy, yet awful too as they measured the new responsibilities which must henceforth ever fill them with holy dread. Sent on by Lady Bryn Afon on the previous day to her favourite retreat, the old farmstead a mile or so below the summit of the mountain, to prepare its occupants for the reception of herself and her attendants, himself included, he had heard much talk of the mystic Pool and its legendary Midsummer Eve visitor between the members of the farm household, and having never yet visited the far-famed region, he had wandered thither, impelled more by his intense love of nature to seek out so beautiful a spot, and there feel himself alone with God, than by any very firm expectation of verifying the truth of the legend. Yet having had his romantic Welsh impulses stirred more vividly than usual some few days since by Lady Rosamond, who had assured him that, did he but gaze fixedly upon the lake, on the stroke of midnight, he could not fail to see the mystic maiden, he could not but confess to himself, as he descended the precipitous green slope which led from the top of the Peak to the shores of the lake, that were she indeed to reveal herself, the apparition would scarce surprise him. He laughed, as he carefully picked his steps among the boulders which strewed the steep greensward, at his own pleasure in so boyish a freak, and gazed at the dark and gloomy water with mingled feelings of amused incredulity and vague expectancy. "Maiden or no maiden," he said to himself, "this nightly view of the mountain is well worth seeing, and I am content to bear my Lady Rosamond's derision, after suffering her persuasions to lead me to so glorious a vision of Nature's beauties. How marvellous is this unearthly stillness! Even the light breezes which whispered on the mountain-top are hushed in this dim, mysterious valley. Methinks 'twas such a stillness Moses must have felt in the mount, ere the voice of God broke the awful silence. The