"Then they're regarded as a bad omen to those who overhear them?" she remarked.
"That's sae. There's bin ithers wha acted as eavesdroppers, an' they a' deed very sune aifterwards. There was Jean Kirkwood an' Geordie Menteith. The latter was a young keeper I had here aboot a year syne. He cam' tae me ae mornin' an' said that while lyin' up for poachers the nicht afore, he distinc'ly h'ard the Whispers. Kennin' what folk say aboot the owerhearin' o' them bein' fatal, I lauched at 'im an' told 'im no' to tak' ony tent o' auld wives' gossip. But, miss, sure enough, within a week he got blood-pizinin', an', though they took 'im to the hospital in Perth, he deed."
"Then popular superstition points to the fact that anyone who accidentally acts as eavesdropper is doomed to death, eh? A very nice outlook for me!" she remarked.
"Oh, Miss Gabrielle!" exclaimed the man, greatly concerned, "dinna treat the maitter lichtly, I beg o' ye. I did, wi' puir Menteith, an' he deed juist like the ithers."
"But what does it all mean?" asked the daughter of the house in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. She knew well that Stewart was just as superstitious as any of his class, for some of the stories he had told her had been most fearful and wonderful elaborations of historical fact.
"It means, I'm fear'd, miss," he replied, "that the Whispers which come frae naewhere are fore-warnin's o' daith."
CHAPTER XII
EXPLAINS SOME CURIOUS FACTS
Gabrielle was silent for a moment. No doubt Stewart meant what he said; he was not endeavouring to alarm her unduly, but thoroughly believed in supernatural agencies. "I suppose you've already examined the ruins thoroughly, eh?" she asked at last.
"Examined them?" echoed the gray-bearded man. "I should think sae, aifter forty-odd years here. Why, as a laddie I used to play there ilka day, an' ha'e been in ilka neuk an' cranny."