In regard to Anne of Gierstein the plagiarism is still more laughable. We must all remember the proceedings of the _Secret Tribunal_ in Scott's novel. Mr. Mattson has evidently been ignorant that the Great Unknown's account of these proceedings was principally based on fact. He has supposed them imaginary _in toto_, and, seeing no good reason to the contrary, determined to have a Secret Tribunal of his own manufacture, and could think of no better location for it than a cavern somewhere about the suburbs of Philadelphia. We must be pardoned for giving Mr. Mattson's account of this matter in his own words. Dingee disappeared, [this is our old friend Dingy O'Dirty] Dingee, [quoth Mr. Mattson,] disappeared--leaving me for a time alone. When he returned, he said every thing was in readiness for the ceremony, [the ceremony of Mr. Ulric's initiation as a robber.] The place appointed for this purpose was called the '_Room of Sculls_'--and thither, blindfolded, I was led. 'A candidate for our order!' said a voice, which I recognized as O'Dougherty's. 'Let him see the light!' exclaimed another in an opposite direction. The mandate was obeyed, and I was restored to sight. I looked wildly and fearfully around--but no living object was perceptible. Before me stood an altar, hung about with red curtains, and ornamented with fringe of the same color. Above it, on a white Banner, was a painting of the human heart, with a dagger struck to the hilt, and the blood streaming from the wound. Directly under this horrible device, was written, in large letters, THE PUNISHMENT OF THE UNFAITHFUL. Around, wherever I turned my eyes, there was little else to be seen but skeletons of human bodies--with their arms uplifted, and stretching forward--suspended in every direction from the walls. One of them I involuntarily touched, and down it came with a fearful crash--its dry bones rattling upon the granite floor, until the whole cavern reverberated with the sound. I turned from this spectacle, and opposite beheld a guillotine--the fatal axe smeared with blood; and near it was a head--looking as if it had just been severed from the body--with the countenance ghastly--the lips parted--and the eyes staring wide open. There, also, was the body, covered, however, with a cloth, so that little was seen except the neck, mangled and bloody, and a small portion of the hand, hanging out from its shroud, grasping in its fingers a tablet with the following inscription: THE END OF THE BETRAYER. I sickened and fell. When I awoke to consciousness I found myself in the arms of O'Dougherty. He was bathing my temples with a fragrant liquor. When I had sufficiently recovered, he put his mouth close to my ear and whispered--'Where is your courage man? Do you know there is a score of eyes upon you?' {178} 'Alas! I am unused to such scenes--I confess they have unmanned me. But now I am firm; you have only to command, and I will obey.'