“I wonder who was the last warder that raised this portcullis?” mused Wynnette.
“I cannot tell you, my dear. It has not been moved in the memory of man,” replied Mrs. Force.
“I see ghosts again!” exclaimed Wynnette—“men-at-arms on yonder battlements! Knights, squires and pursuivants in the courtyard here! Oh, what a haunted hole is this!”
They entered a quadrangular courtyard paved with flagstones, inclosed by stone buildings, and having at each of the four corners a strong tower.
The front building, through which they had passed by the ascending road, was the most ancient part of the castle and faced the sea. But in the rear of that was the more recent structure, used as the dwelling of the earl and his household. This modern building also faced the sea, on the other side, but it could not be approached from the cliff road except through the front. These buildings were not used at all. They were given over to the denizens objected to by Wynnette—to rats, mice, bats, owls and rooks, and—perhaps ghosts.
On either side the buildings were used as quarters for the servants and offices for the household.
They drove through the courtyard, under an archway in the wall of the modern building, and out to the front entrance, facing the open sea.
Many steps led from the pavement up to the massive oaken doors, flanked by huge pillars of stone, that gave admittance to the building.
The coachman left his box, went up these stairs and knocked.
The double doors swung open.