"By th' maskins, lass, ey conna tell," replied Blackrod; "boh whotever it be, ey'll protect ye."
"Tak care o' me, Phil," ejaculated Nancy Holt, pressing close to her lover's side.
"Eigh, that I win," rejoined the forester.
"Ey dunna care for ghosts so long as yo are near me, Phil," said Nancy, tenderly.
"Then ey'n never leave ye, Nance," replied Phil.
"Ghost or not," said Jennet, who had been occupied in regarding the new-comer attentively, "ey'n go an speak to it. Ey'm nah afeerd, if yo are."
"Eigh do, Jennet, that's a brave little lass," said Blackrod, glad to be rid of her in any way.
"Stay!" cried Adam Whitworth, coming up at the moment, and overhearing what was said—"you must not go near the gentleman. I will not have him molested, or even spoken with, till Sir Ralph appears."
Meanwhile, the stranger, without returning the glances fixed upon him, or deigning to notice any of the company, pursued his way, and sat down in a chair at the upper table.
But his entrance had been witnessed by others besides the rustic guests and servitors. Nicholas and Richard Assheton chanced to be in the gallery at the time, and, greatly struck by the singularity of his appearance, immediately descended to make inquiries respecting him. As they appeared below, the old steward advanced to meet them.