A man who had gone down at low water to visit his nets, found a dead body stretched out on the sands. It was not that of any of his neighbours. A violent storm had raged a day or two previously, and there could be no doubt that some unfortunate vessel had gone down in the gale, and that the body before him was that of one of the crew. It was handsomely dressed, the clothes being of velvet, richly laced with gold. The avarice of the fisherman was excited, and his first thought was to search the pockets. A purse, containing what to a poor man was a considerable sum, was found, and, content with his morning’s work, the man hastened home, leaving the body to be carried away by the next tide. Great was his astonishment and affright, on entering his cottage, to see the dead man seated by the fireside, and looking sternly and reproachfully at him. His wife, to whom the phantom was not visible, perceived his trouble, and, pressed by her, he confessed what he had done. She upbraided him with his inhuman conduct, and, kneeling down with him, prayed the Almighty to forgive him his sin. They then hastened down to the beach, drew the corpse to shore, and buried it in a neighbouring field. On their return home the ghost of the drowned man had disappeared and was never more seen.[143] [143] From Mrs. Savidan. EDITOR’S NOTE.--An old fisherman named Mansell told Major Macleane, my informant, that it is most unlucky to keep a suit of clothes belonging to a drowned man, whether they have been washed ashore, or by whatever means they have entered your possession; for his spirit is sure to come back and reanimate his clothes and haunt you. The clothes should always be burnt or buried immediately. “LA GRAND’ GARCE.” “_Qu’est qu’tu ’as? Non dirait qu’tu ’as veu la grand’ garce._” (“What is the matter with you? One would suppose you had seen the great girl.”) Such were the words with which a gentleman (Mr. Peter Le Pelley, Seigneur of Sark), in the last century greeted his sister-in-law, (Miss Frances Carey, daughter of Mr. John Carey), who had come to spend a few days with him at his manorial residence in Sark, on her appearance at the breakfast table the morning after her arrival. He meant to banter her on her anxious and haggard look, which she attributed to a restless night and headache, occasioned in all probability by crossing the water on the previous day. In reality, although she did not like to acknowledge it at the time, her rest had been disturbed. Having previously locked her door, as was her habit, she had fallen asleep almost as soon as she laid her head on the pillow, but was awakened suddenly,--about midnight, as far as she could judge,--by someone drawing aside the curtains at the foot of her bed. She started up, and saw plainly an elderly lady standing there. She fell back fainting, and when she recovered her senses the figure had disappeared.