"Rotten place," said Carl. "If I were Chesney I'd blow it up."
"Did yer see anything?" persisted Tom.
"What the deuce is there to see except bare walls and some ancient oak furniture, must be hundreds of years old."
"It is," said Tom, "more—hundreds and hundreds. You looked a bit scared when you came out—white as a sheet, eyes near shooting out of yer head. Tell me what yer saw."
"Nothing," said Carl. "The place gave me the horrors. I lost myself in the dungeon, took me a long time to find the steps again, that gave me a shock, I had no matches left."
"There's folks been put in that place never saw the light o' day again.
Do you believe it's haunted?"
Carl made no reply for a few moments, then said:
"It may be; I shouldn't be surprised. I'm more inclined to believe you since I've been inside."
"I thought as how you would. Seeing's believing," said Tom.
"But I tell you I did not see anything. I heard sounds."