"Very," remarked the heir to the great estate of Connachan. "But, after all, cannot one very often trace the same legend through the folklore of various countries? I remember I once attended a lecture upon that very interesting subject."
"Oh, of course. Many ancient legends have sprung from the same germ, so that often we have practically the same fairy-story all over Europe. But this, it seems to me, is no fairy story."
"Well," laughed Murie, "the history of Glencardine Castle and the historic family is so full of stirring episodes that I really don't wonder that the ruins are believed to be the abode of something supernatural. My father possesses some of the family papers, while Sir Henry, when he bought Glencardine, also acquired a quantity. Only a year ago he told me that he had had an application from a well-known historical writer for access to them, as he was about to write a book upon the family."
"Then you know Sir Henry well?"
"Very well indeed. I'm often his guest, and frequently shoot over the place."
"I've heard that Lady Heyburn is a very pretty woman," remarked the other, glancing at his friend with a peculiar look.
"Some declare her to be beautiful; but to myself, I confess, she's not very attractive."
"There are stories about her, eh?" Hamilton said.
"As there are about every good-looking woman. Beauty cannot escape unjust criticism or the scars of lying tongues."
"People pity Sir Henry, I've heard."