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up the town, he said to Mr. Broom, "Yonder comes ghost." He seeing nothing, asked him whereabout it was? The other said, "It is over against such a house, and it walks looking upwards towards such a side, flinging one arm with a glove in its hand." He said, moreover, that when it came near them they must give way to it, that he ever did so, and some that have not done so have suffered for it. Anon he said, ""Tis just upon us; let's out of the way!" Mr. Broom believing all to be a fiction, as soon as he said those words, took hold of his arm, and kept him by force in the way. But as he held him, there came such a force against them, that he was flung into the middle of the street, and one of the palms of his hand, and one knee bruised and broken by the fall, which put him for a while to excessive pain.

But spying the Lieutenant lie like a dead man, he got up as soon as he could, and applied himself to his relief. With the help of others he got him into the next shop, where they poured strong water down his throat, but for some time could discern no life in him. At length, what with the strong water, and what with well chafing him, he began to stir, and when he was come to himself his first words were, "I will shew you no more ghosts." Then he desired a pipe of tobacco, but Mr. Broom told him he should take it at his house; for he feared, should he take it so soon there, it would make him sick.

Thereupon they went together to Mr. Broom's house, where they were no sooner entering in but the bell rang out. Mr. Broom presently sent his maid to learn who was dead. She brought word that it was such an one, a tailor, who died suddenly, though he had been in a consumption a long time. And inquiring after the time of his death, they found it was as punctually as it could be guessed at the very time when the ghost appeared. The ghost had exactly this tailor's known gait, who ordinarily went also with one arm swinging, and a glove in that hand, and looking on one side apwards.


These gentlemen were, as young men, officers in the same regiment, which was employed on foreign service. They were connected by similarity of tastes and studies, and spent together, in literary occupation, much of that vacant time which was squandered by their brother officers, in those excesses of the table, which, some forty years ago, were considered among the necessary accomplishments of the military character. They were one, afternoon sitting in Wynyard's apartment. It was perfectly light, the hour was about four o'clock; they had dined, but neither of them had drunk wine, and they had retired from the mess to continue together the occupations of the morning. It ought to have been said, that the apartment in which they were, had two doors in it, the one opening into a passage, and the other leading into Wynyard's bed-room. There was no other means of entering the sitting-room but from the passage, and no other egress from the bed-room but through the sitting-room; so that any person passing into the bed-room must have remained there, unless he returned by the way he entered. This point is of consequence to the story.

As these two young officers were pursuing their studies, Sherbroke, whose eye happened accidentally to glance from the volume before him towards the door that opened to the passage, observed a tall youth, of about twenty years of age, whose appearance was that of extreme emaciation, standing beside it. Struck with the presence of a perfect stranger, he immediately turned to his friend, who was sitting near him, and directed his attention to the guest who had thus strangely broken in upon their studies. As soon as Wynyard's eyes were turned towards the mysterious visitor, his countenance became suddenly agitated. "I have heard," says Sir John Sherbroke, "of a man's being as pale as death, but I never saw a living face assume the appearance of a corpse except Wynyard's at that moment." As they looked silently at the form before them, for Wynyard, who seemed to apprehend the import of the appearance, was deprived of the faculty of speech,

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and Sherbroke, perceiving the agitation of his friend, felt no inclination to address it,-as they looked silently upon the figure, it proceeded slowly into the adjoining apartment, and, in the act of passing them, cast its eyes with an expression of somewhat melancholy affection on young Wynyard. The oppression of this extraordinary presence was no sooner removed, than Wynyard, seizing his friend by the arm and drawing a deep breath, as if recovering from the suffocation of intense astonishment and emotion, muttered in a low and almost inaudible tone of voice, "Great God! my brother!"-"Your brother!" repeated Sherbroke, "what can you mean, Wynyard? there must be some deception-follow me;" and immediately taking his friend by the arm, he preceded him into the bed-room, which, as before stated, was connected with the sitting-room, and into which the strange visitor had evidently entered. It has already been said, that from this chamber there was no possibility of withdrawing but by the way of the apartment, through which the figure had certainly passed, and as certainly never had returned. Imagine, then, the astonishment of the young officers, when, on finding themselves in the centre of the chamber, they perceived that the room was perfectly untenanted. Wynyard's mind had received an impression at the first moment of his observing him, that the figure whom he had seen was the spirit of his brother. Sherbroke still persevered in strenuously believing that some delusion had been practised.

They took note of the day and hour in which the event had happened; but they resolved not to mention the occurrence in the regiment, and gradually they persuaded each other that they had been imposed upon by some artifice of their fellow-officers, though they could neither account for the reason, nor suspect the author, nor conceive the means of its execution. They were content to imagine anything possible, rather than admit the possibility of a supernatural appearance. But, though they had attempted these stratagems of self-delusion, Wynyard could not help expressing his solicitude with respect to the safety of the brother whose apparition he had either seen, or imagined himself to have seen; and the anxiety which he exhibited for letters from England, and his frequent mention

of his fears for his brother's health, at length awakened the curiosity of his comrades, and eventually betrayed him into a declaration of the circumstances which he had, in vain, determined to conceal. The story of the silent and unbidden visitor was no sooner bruited abroad, than the destiny of Wynyard's brother became an object of universal and painful interest to the officers of the regiment; there were few who did not enquire for Wynyard's letters before they made any demand after their own, and the packets that arrived from England were welcomed with more than usual eagerness, for they brought not only remembrances from their friends at home, but promised to afford the clue to the mystery which had happened among themselves.

By the first ships no intelligence relating to the story could have been received, for they had all departed from England previously to the appearance of the spirit. At length the long-wished-for vessel arrived; all the officers had letters except Wynyard. Still the secret was unexplained. They examined the several newspapers, but they contained no mention of any death, or of any other circumstance connected with his family that could account for the preternatural event. There was a solitary letter for Sherbroke still unopened. The officers had received their letters in the mess-room at the hour of supper. After Sherbroke had broken the seal of his last packet, and cast a glance on its contents, he beckoned his friend away from the company, and departed from the room. All were silent. The suspense of the interest was now at its climax; the impatience for the return of Sherbroke was inexpressible. They doubted not but that letter had contained the long-expected intelligence. After the interval of an hour Sherbroke joined them. No one dared be guilty of so great a rudeness as to inquire the nature of his correspondence; but they waited in mute attention, expecting that he would himself touch upon the subject. His mind was manifestly full of thoughts that pained, bewildered, and oppressed him. He drew near to the fire-place, and leaning his head on the mantel-piece, after a pause of some moments, said in a low voice, to the person who was nearest to him, Wynyard's brother is no more!" The first line of Sherbroke's letter was, John, break to your friend Wynyard the death of his


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favourite brother." He had died on the day, and at the very hour on which the friends had seen his spirit pass so mysteriously through the apartment.

It might have been imagined, that these events would have been sufficient to have impressed the mind of Sherbroke with the conviction of their truth; but so strong was his prepossession against the existence, or even the possibility of any preternatural intercourse with the souls of the dead, that he still entertained a doubt of the report of his senses, supported, as their testimony was, by the coincidence of vision and event. Some years after, on his return to England, he was walking with two gentlemen in Piccadilly, when, on the opposite side of the way, he saw a person bearing the most striking resemblance to the figure which had been disclosed to Wynyard and himself. His companions were acquainted with the story; and he instantly directed their attention to the gentleman opposite, as the individual who had contrived to enter and depart from Wynyard's apartment without their being conscious of the means. Full of this impression, he immediately went over, and at once addressed the gentleman: he now fully expected to elucidate the mystery. He apologised for the interruption, but excused it by relating the occurrence, which had induced him to the commission of this solecism in manners. The gentleman received him as a friend. He had never been out of the country; but he was the twin brother of the youth whose spirit had been seen.

This story is related with several variations. It is sometimes told as having happened at Gibraltar, at others in England, at others in America. There are also differences with respect to the conclusion. Some say that the gentleman whom Sir John Sherbroke afterwards met in London, and addressed as the person whom he had previously seen in so mysterious a manner, was not another brother of General Wynyard, but a gentleman who bore a strong resemblance to the family. But, however, the leading facts every account are the same. Sir John Sherbroke and General Wynyard, two gentlemen of veracity, were together present at the spiritual appearance of the brother of General Wynyard: the appearance took place at the moment of dissolution; and the countenance, and form of the ghost's


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