" It
consists of a single round tower, and appears at a distance rather as
the remnant of some extensive building, than a complete and perfect
edifice, as it now exists. It was built more than two centuries ago, by
a man named Maurice Cooke; not, indeed, as a strong hold from the arms
of a mortal enemy, but as a refuge from the evils of destiny. He was the
proprietor of extensive estates in the neighbourhood; and while his lady
was pregnant with her first child, as she was one evening walking in
their domains, she encountered a strange looking gipsey, who, pestering
her for alms, received but a small sum. The man turned over the coin in
his hand, and implored a larger gift. "That," said the lady, "will buy
you food for the present."
"Lady," said the gipsey, "it is not food for the wretched body that I
require; the herbs of the field, and the waters of the ditch, are good
enough for that. I asked your alms for higher purposes. Do not distrust
me, if my bearing be prouder than my garments; do not doubt the strength
of my sunken eye, when I tell you that I can read the skies as they
relate to the fate of men.
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