CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.
As when a Gryphon through the wilderness, With winged course, o'er hill and moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloined The guarded gold: So eagerly the Fiend-- Paradise Lost.
When their collation was ended, Sir Arthur resumed the account of the mysteries of the divining-rod, as a subject on which he had formerly conversed with Dousterswivel.

"My friend Mr.Oldbuck will now be prepared, Mr.Dousterswivel, to listen with more respect to the stories you have told us of the late discoveries in Germany by the brethren of your association." "Ah, Sir Arthur, that was not a thing to speak to those gentlemans, because it is want of credulity--what you call faith--that spoils the great enterprise." "At least, however, let my daughter read the narrative she has taken down of the story of Martin Waldeck." "Ah! that was vary true story--but Miss Wardour, she is so sly and so witty, that she has made it just like one romance--as well as Goethe or Wieland could have done it, by mine honest wort." "To say the truth, Mr.Dousterswivel," answered Miss Wardour, "the romantic predominated in the legend so much above the probable, that it was impossible for a lover of fairyland like me to avoid lending a few touches to make it perfect in its kind.

But here it is, and if you do not incline to leave this shade till the heat of the day has somewhat declined, and will have sympathy with my bad composition, perhaps Sir Arthur or Mr.Oldbuck will read it to us." "Not I," said Sir Arthur; "I was never fond of reading aloud." "Nor I," said Oldbuck, "for I have forgot my spectacles.

But here is Lovel, with sharp eyes and a good voice; for Mr.Blattergowl, I know, never reads anything, lest he should be suspected of reading his sermons." The task was therefore imposed upon Lovel, who received, with some trepidation, as Miss Wardour delivered, with a little embarrassment, a paper containing the lines traced by that fair hand, the possession of which he coveted as the highest blessing the earth could offer to him.

But there was a necessity of suppressing his emotions; and after glancing over the manuscript, as if to become acquainted with the character, he collected himself, and read the company the following tale:-- The Fortunes of Martin Waldeck.
The solitudes of the Harz forest in Germany, but especially the mountains called Blocksberg, or rather Brockenberg, are the chosen scenes for tales of witches, demons, and apparitions.
[The outline of this story is taken from the German, though the Author is at present unable to say in which of the various collections of the popular legends in that language the original is to be found.] The occupation of the inhabitants, who are either miners or foresters, is of a kind that renders them peculiarly prone to superstition, and the natural phenomena which they witness in pursuit of their solitary or subterraneous profession, are often set down by them to the interference of goblins or the power of magic.