“Two, do you say?”
“Yes, Sir Richard; one at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, and t’other opened the drawing-room door! H-o-o! ask ’em all if it ain’t true, good master!” continued the footman, rolling his eyes and moaning.
“And another grim rascal in armour rushed at us lance in hand at the dining-hall door?” whined Tim, the valiant groom. “Oh, lor, the whole place is full on ’em, I do believe.”
For some moments Sir Richard did not know what to do.
All around him knelt his frightened domestics, groaning and shaking.
“Why, but just now, knave, you said it was all a lark, perhaps, got up by some of the silly villagers to frighten us. Ghosts and living skeletons indeed! There, go down and get your suppers at once, and let’s have no more of such silly nonsense.”
“Nay, good master, we dare not.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” said Ned, laughing; “how can you be geese enough to believe in such old women’s tales. Get up off your knees at once, I say, and don’t stick there shivering like leaves. I have lived in the Hall this many a year, and have never seen anything of the kind. I only wish I could come across the rascals who are playing such tricks, that’s all; I’d soon find out whether they were ghosts or not.”
“Would you? Ha! ha!” said suddenly a voice.
“What was that? Who spoke?” said Ned, colouring with anger.