J.S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES


by


J.S. LE FANU


VOLUME 5



CONTENTS



LAURA SILVER BELL,

(1872)


WICKED CAPTAIN WALSHAWE, OF WAULING,

(1869)


THE CHILD THAT WENT WITH THE FAIRIES,

(1870)


STORIES OF LOUGH GUIR,

(1870)


The Magician Earl


Moll Rial's Adventure


The Banshee


The Governess's Dream


The Earl's Hall


THE VISION OF TOM CHUFF,

(1870)


DICKON THE DEVIL,

(1872)



LAURA SILVER BELL


In the five Northumbrian counties you will scarcely find so bleak,ugly, and yet, in a savage way, so picturesque a moor as Dardale Moss.The moor itself spreads north, south, east, and west, a greatundulating sea of black peat and heath.

What we may term its shores are wooded wildly with birch, hazel, anddwarf-oak. No towering mountains surround it, but here and there youhave a rocky knoll rising among the trees, and many a woodedpromontory of the same pretty, because utterly wild, forest, runningout into its dark level.

Habitations are thinly scattered in this barren territory, and a fullmile away from the meanest was the stone cottage of Mother Carke.

Let not my southern reader who associates ideas of comfort with theterm "cottage" mistake. This thing is built of shingle, with lowwalls. Its thatch is hollow; the peat-smoke curls stingily from itsstunted chimney. It is worthy of its savage surroundings.

The primitive neighbours remark that no rowan-tree grows near, norholly, nor bracken, and no horseshoe is nailed on the door.

Not far from the birches and hazels that straggle about the rude wallof the little enclosure, on the contrary, they say, you may discoverthe broom and the rag-wort, in which witches mysteriously delight. Butthis is perhaps a scandal.

Mall Carke was for many a year the sage femme of this wild domain.She has renounced practice, however, for some years; and now, underthe rose, she dabbles, it is thought, in the black art, in which shehas always been secretly skilled, tells fortunes, practises charms,and in popular esteem is little better than a witch.

Mother Carke has been away to the town of Willarden, to sell knitstockings, and is returning to her rude dwelling by Dardale Moss. Toher right, as far away as the eye can reach, the moor stretches. Thenarrow track she has followed here tops a gentle upland, and at herleft a sort of jungle of dwarf-oak and brushwood approaches its edge.The sun is sinking blood-red in the west. His disk has touched thebroad black

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