It is amusing to note that 'this narrative gave equal satisfaction to the Cavaliers and Roundheads: the former conceiving that the licence given to the demons was in consequence of this impious desecration of the King's furniture and apartments, so that the citizens of Woodstock, almost adored the supposed spirits, as avengers of the cause of royalty; while the friends of the Parliament, on the other hand, imputed to the malice of the Fiend the obstruction of the pious work, as they judged that which they had in hand.'] CONTENTS PAGE IN THE BLACKFRIARS WYND 1 BY PEDEN'S CLEUCH 23 'ILL-STEEKIT' EPHRAIM 31 THE COCK-CROW 49 BY THE SHRINE OF SAINT CUTHBERT 59 *'MEENISTER' MACHIAVELLI 67 ELDER 'MACHIAVELLI-ER' 83 REPENTANCE TOWER 99 *THE LORD WARDEN'S TOMB 109 CASTLE ICHABOD 121 THE MUNIMENT ROOM 137 IN THE CLIFF LAND OF THE DANE 153 *THE DOPPEL-GANGER 171 *IN MY LADY'S BEDCHAMBER 179 *THE WARLOCK OF GLORORUM 189 'MUCKLE-MOUTHED MEG' 203 *THE PRIOR OF TYNEMOUTH 223 THE HAUNTED ALE-HOUSE 233 THE CRY OF THE PEACOCK 245 KITTY'S BOWER 255 THE TALE OF THE THREE ANTIQUARIES 271 APUD CORSTOPITUM 283 IN THE BLACKFRIARS WYND '_'Twill be a black day for auld Scotland when she ceases to believe in the muckle Deil_,' commented 'the Meenister' of the Tron Kirk, when I had explained to him my troubles and sought his 'ghostly counsel and advice,' as the English service has it, 'to the quieting of my conscience, and avoiding of all scruple and doubtfulness.' My father had been English, but my mother was Scotch, and she had sent me to my uncle, Deacon Abercrombie, to be entered as apprentice to his craft of the goldsmiths. He was a widower, lived alone, and was reputed to be eccentric, but as far as worldly gear was concerned the Deacon was a highly responsible citizen; as burgess, guild brother, and deacon of his craft he could hold his head as high on the causeway as any other, be he who he might, in the city. Not even the 'stairhead critics,' who, as Auld Reekie's poet writes, '_wi' glowering eye Their neighbours' sma'est faults descry_,' could point at any speck in his general repute. The Reverend Andrew Geddes was somewhat stricken in years; his beard was white as snow, his thrapple loose below his chin, and the flesh had ebbed from his bones, but his mind was as alert as ever, and his goodness stood manifest in his face.