In the evening we played games, and were very lively. Miss Langton came into my room for a few minutes, and was certainly not in any nervous condition, nor did we speak of the hauntings. But this morning (Tuesday) at breakfast she reported having heard a loud crash almost directly after getting to her room. We considered possible causes, but could not discover that any one was moving in the house. The servants had gone to bed some time earlier, and we had put out the lights ourselves in the hall and on the stairs.
February 16th, Tuesday.—I had an experience this morning which may have been purely subjective, but which should be recorded. About 10 a.m. I was writing in the library, face to light, back to fire. Mrs. W—— was in the room, and addressed me once or twice; but I was aware of not being responsive, as I was much occupied. I wrote on, and presently felt a distinct, but gentle, push against my chair. I thought it was the dog and looked down, but he was not there. I went on writing, and in a few minutes felt a push, firm and decided, against myself which moved me on my chair. I thought it was Mrs. W——, who, having spoken and obtained no answer, was reminding me of her presence. I looked backward with an exclamation—the room was empty. She came in directly, and called my attention to the dog, who was gazing intently from the hearthrug at the place where I had expected (before) to see him.
As the day began with the above, and I had had a quiet rest, I went to the copse at dusk. The moon was bright, and the twilight lingered. We waited about in the avenue to let it get darker, but it was still far from dark when we made our way up the glen—Miss Moore, Miss Langton, and myself.
I saw "Ishbel" and "Marget" in the old spot across the burn. "Ishbel" was on her knees in the attitude of weeping, "Marget" apparently reasoning with her in a low voice, to which "Ishbel" replied very occasionally. I could not hear what was said for the noise of the burn. We waited for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes. They had appeared when I had been there perhaps three or four.
When we regained the avenue (in silence) Miss Moore asked Miss Langton, "What did you see?" (She had been told nothing, except that the Colonel, who did not know details then, had said in her presence something about "a couple of nuns".) She said, "I saw nothing, but I heard a low talking." Questioned further, she said it seemed close behind. The glen is so narrow, that this might be quite consistent with what I saw and heard. Miss Moore heard a murmuring voice, and is quite certain it was not the burn. She is less suggestible than almost any one I know.
The dog ran up while we were there, pointed, and ran straight for the two women. He afterwards left us, and we found him barking in the glen. He is a dog who hardly ever barks. We went up among the trees where he was, and could find no cause.
Miss Moore and I moved into No. 8 (dressing-room No. 6). It is a "suspect" room, which I had not tried, and Miss Moore had scarcely slept all the week in No. 1, and was looking so worn out, that I decided to move.
February 17th, Wednesday.—A most glorious day, still, bright, and sunny.
Nothing happened till evening. The Colonel, Mrs. W——, Miss Langton, Miss Moore, and I were in the drawing-room after dinner. Some of us, certainly the last four, heard footsteps overhead in No. 1, which is just now disused. I was lying on the sofa, and could not get up quickly: but Mrs. W—— and Miss Langton ran up at once, and found it empty and dark, and no one about.
Later, about 10.30, we all five heard the clang noise with which some of us are so familiar. The servants had gone to bed—or so we presumed, as all lights were out, except on the upper floor. It occurred four times. It is of course conceivable they may have made it, but we do not hear it when we know them to be about, and we do hear it when we know them not to be about.