At this moment the door opened, and Halliday, who had been Lord Evandale's principal, personal attendant since they both left the Guards on the Revolution, stumbled into the room with a counternance as, pale and ghastly as terror could paint it.
"What is the matter next, Halliday?" cried his master, starting up. "Any discovery of the"———
He had just recollection sufficient to stop short in the midst of the dangerous sentence.
"No, sir," said Halliday, "it is not that, nor any thing like that; but I have seen a ghost!"
"A ghost!, you eternal idiot!" said Lord Evandale, forced altogether out of his patience. "Has all mankind sworn to go mad in order to drive me so?—What ghost, you simpleton?"
"The ghost of Henry Morton, the whig captain at Bothwell Bridge," replied Halli-
