Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-01-18
PremOnitOry Dreams.

ago, post-chaise, with a single gentle
man inside 1t, drove up to the little inn
on the pentland firth, in the north of
Scotland, where passengers who were 60
ing to cross to the Orkneys usually spent
the night. The gentleman, whom we will
call Mr.. Mac T., was the owner of o
large estate, and an old house which had
belonged to his family for hundreds of
years, in the Mainland, or chief of the
Orkney Islands, and was now about to
visit his property. 1t was clustering,
stormy night, but that only made more
pleasant the cigar and the glass of whis-
key, and the cracking wood fire by
which Mac It. sat chatting with the
landlord, who was an old friend both OF
his father and himself, and who was
proud of entertaining the "young laird"
as he called him, with his widest tales
of adventure on the sea. They did not
however, Sit late, for the Orkney packet
sailed very early in the morning. and
Mac T. soon found himself in the cosy,
well-appointod little bedroom. The
wind was chanting grand Berserker
melody, and the sea was roaring deep
bass accompaniment. Mac T. loved those
sounds for they had often been the lullaby
of his childhood, ana soon tell asleep.
For some hours he slept without an
mage or a thought reaching his mind;
but at length, when the morning was
glimmering gray in the east, strange
dream came to puzzle him. He dreamt
that he was in the ancient banquetung-
hail OF his old house in the Mainland. sit
ting at the head of Il very long table. The
banqueting hall was now in reality al
most ruin, but in his dream Mac T.
saw it hung with tapestry ana blazing
with "a hundred lighs. The table was
we'll filled on both sides, and he thought
he glanced curiousiy dowu its length to
see who his guests were. AS he looked
he shuddered in his dream. Those who
sat at the table with him wcrs all dead
ancestors for many generations back. He
knew their faces and dresses we'll from
their portraits in the picture gallery.
Next to INN sat his own father, who had
died about year before. And at the
bottom OF the table sat fair haired man
LII a dress ofski:;s, who was Morse chief
tain, the founder Of the family. Itseem-
GU W tlLl tlleLL llC SoU III SOulGc
as if spellbound, while the spectres MUIR
INJURED together in low, hollow tones. At
length they all rose, and slowly, one by
| one, in turn, left the hall. But before
they went, each one paused at the door,
and turning, raised his hand in a warn
ing attitude, fixed his eyes on Mac T.,
and said in Il deep voice, the word "Be-
ware!"
"The packet starts in twenty minutes,
SIR cried a loud voice at the door, rous-
ing Mac T. suddenly from sleep. Con-
fused at first, yet soon remem bering
where he was, hc sprang out of bed and
began hurricdly to dress himself. Beng
d bad sailor, his first glance was natural
lY enough at the sea, close to which the
inn stood. The wind had risen in the
night. The waves Numbered on the
shore; and the little Orkney packet was
tossed up and down like limpet
shell. AS he gazed, his strange dream
rose up with sudden distinctness before
Mac rs mind. lie was infected with a
good deal OF Scotch superstition. Be-
sides, he did not much like the looks of
the sea, and 50 he resolved not to go out
till tomorrow. That day the Orkney
packet was lost with every man on board,
and Mac T. and his little wife, who was
lett at home with the babies, had to
thank that warning dream ror his life
The other instance we have to tell is
quite as singular. Many years ago the
Rev. Mr.. N. held small living in the
widest part of West Somerset. The par
ish church stood ON a bleak hillside, and
Mr.. n. was a bachelor, logged in the farm
house close to it. Among his small flock
there was none in whom the clergyman
took more interest than in Mary the pref
ty daughter of the farmer, his landlord.
When Mary was about twenty Mr.. N.
was much troubled by finding that she
mad formed an attachment with Jack
Townsend. the cleverest workman and
the most worthless fellow on the farm.
One autumn night the clergyman
dreamed that Mary stood at his bedside,
and cried out in an imploring voice,
Come out on to the hilside!' The i'm
preston left on his mind on waking was
SO distinct that, if he mad not known the
door was locked so that no one could en-
ter the room, he would have thought
Mary must in reality have been there.
Feeling, however, sure that it was only
dream, he composed himself once more
to sleep. But scarcely had he closed his
eyes when Mary was again there, calling
to him to come out on the hillside. Sew
en- several times he tried to sleep, and
seven times the phantom came back, al
ways with the same cry.
At length, mastered by an almost IRE
sistible impulse, he rose, dressed himself,
and went out on the hill. He walked
some distance, but could see nothing ex-
cept the heather-bells waving in the
moonlight; could hear nothing but dis
tant sheep-bell tinkling softly, and the
stream warbling below in the valley
He was just going back, when suddenly
shrill cry reached him, seeming to
come from neighboring combe. Hurry
ing IL that direction, he saw at the bot
tom Of the combe two figures, those of
man and woman, apparently struggling
with each other. As he drew near, the |
man ran away and the woman fell to the
ground. When he came up he found that
it was Mary. She had only tainted, and