"I find," said he, "from your letter received on the 23d current, that you are not making a long stay in this neighbourhood. It is better, perhaps, that you should not. The old house is sadly out of repair. Three years ago next May, David Gidlow, the tenant under lease from me, left it, and I have not yet been able to meet with another occupant fully to my satisfaction; indeed, I have some intention of pulling down the house and disposing of the materials."
"Pulling it down!" I exclaimed, with indignation.
"Yes; that is, it is so untenantable—so—what shall I call it?—that nobody cares to live there."
"I hope it is not haunted?"
"Haunted!" exclaimed he, surveying me with a severe and scrutinising glance. "What should have put that into your head?"
I was afraid I had said too much; and anxious to allay the suspicion I saw gathering in his countenance—"Nay, uncle," I quickly rejoined; "but you seemed so afraid of speaking out upon the matter that I thought there must needs be a ghost at the bottom of it."
"As for that," said he, carelessly; "the foolish farmer and his wife did hint something of the sort; but it is well known that I pay no attention to such tales. The long and the short of it, I fancy, was, that they were tired of their bargain, and wanted me to take it off their hands."
Here honest Gilbert entered, to say that Mr L——, the attorney, would be glad to have a word with his master.
"Tell Mr L—— to walk in. We have no secrets here. Excuse me, nephew; this man is one of our lawyers. He has nothing to communicate but what you may hear, I dare say. If he should have any private business, you can step into the next room."
The attorney entering, I was introduced as nephew to Mr