Wesley. He was travelling
late one night over a wild part of Cornwall when a terrific storm came
on, and the only shelter at hand was a mansion that had the reputation
of being haunted. He found his way into the hall and lay down on a bench
listening to the raging elements outside until he fell fast asleep.
About midnight he awoke and was surprised to find the table in the hall
laid out for a banquet, and a gaily dressed company, including a
gentleman with a red feather in his cap, already assembled. This person
offered Wesley a vacant chair and invited him to join them, an
invitation which he accepted; but before he took a bite or a sup he rose
from his chair, and said, "Gentlemen! it is my custom to ask a blessing
on these occasions," and added, "Stand all!" The company rose, but as he
pronounced the sacred invocation the room grew dark and the ghostly
guests vanished.
We should have liked to hear what followed, but this was left to our
imagination, which became more active as the darkness of night came on.
As we walked we saw some beautiful spar stones used to repair the roads,
which would have done finely for our rockeries.
Late that night we entered Truro, destined to become years afterwards a
cathedral town.
Pages:
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187