I shall not open my eyes before it be broad day; for I feel very sleepy and want a deal of rest.”
“Then I ought not to conceal from you,” replied the host, “what report says. The castle is haunted by a plaguy ghost, who walks about all night. But we shall be so near, that you need not be the least afraid. Should anything occur, you have only to call out pretty loudly, and we shall be ready to assist you. People with us are stirring all night, and somebody or other will be at hand. Why, I have lived here these thirty years, and, for my own part, I have never seen anything, that is, anything invisible. The noise that is sometimes heard, proceeds, I take it, from cats, or other animals that harbour in the garrets.”
Mine host spoke truth when he declared he had never seen anything invisible—not even the spectre; he took care never to be near enough the castle at night. Even now the varlet did not venture to proceed across the threshold; but opening the door, he handed Frank the basket, directed him which way to proceed, and bade him a good night. Our traveller entered the great hall without feeling the least awe; despising the story as mere gossip, or some old tradition of a real event adorned with a little of the supernatural. He called to mind the report of Sir Egbert, whose heavy hand he had so much dreaded, and yet who had treated him with so much
