As they stood with their fists clenched, on a sudden they were alarmed with a dismal groan from the room underneath. They stood like statues petrified by fear, yet listening with trembling expectation. A second groan increased their consternation; and, soon after, a third completed it. They staggered to a seat, and sunk down upon it, ready to faint. Presently, all the doors flew open, a pale glimmering light appeared at the door, from the staircase, and a man in complete armour entered the room. He stood, with one hand extended, pointing to the outward door; they took the hint, and crawled away as fast as fear would let them; they staggered along the gallery, and from thence to the baron’s apartment, where Wenlock sunk down in a swoon, and Markham had just strength enough to knock at the door.
The servant who slept in the outward room alarmed his lord.
Markham cried out, “For Heaven’s sake, let us in!”
Upon hearing his voice, the door was opened, and Markham approached his Uncle in such an attitude of fear, as excited a degree of it in the baron. He pointed to Wenlock, who was with some difficulty recovered from the fit he was fallen into; the servant was terrified, he rung the alarm-bell; the servants came running from all parts to their Lord’s apartment; The young gentlemen came likewise, and presently all was confusion, and the terror was universal. Oswald, who guessed the business, was the only one that could question them. He asked several times, “What is the matter?”
Markham, at last, answered him, “We have seen the ghost!”
All regard to secrecy was now at an end; the echo ran through the whole family—“They have seen the ghost!”
The baron desired Oswald to talk to the young men, and endeavour to quiet the disturbance. He came forward; he comforted some, he rebuked others; he had the servants retire into the outward room. The baron, with his sons and kinsmen, remained in the bedchamber.
“It is very unfortunate,” said Oswald, “that this affair should be made so public; surely these young men might have related what they had seen, without alarming the whole family. I am very much concerned upon my lord’s account.”
“I thank you, father,” said the baron; “but prudence was quite overthrown here. Wenlock was half dead, and Markham half distracted; the family were alarmed without my being able to prevent it. But let us hear what these poor terrified creatures say.”
Oswald demanded, “What have you seen, gentlemen?”
“The ghost!” said Markham.
“In what form did it appear?”
“A man in armour.”
“Did it speak to you?”
“No.”
“What did it do to terrify you so much?”
“It stood at the farthest door, and pointed to the outward door, as if to have us leave the room; we did not wait for a second notice, but came away as fast as we could.”
“Did it follow you?”
“No.”
“Then you need not have raised such a disturbance.”
Wenlock lifted up his head, and spoke—
“I believe, father, if you had been with us, you would not have stood upon ceremonies any more than we did. I wish my lord would send you to parley with the ghost; for, without doubt, you are better qualified than we.”
“My Lord,” said Oswald, “I will go thither, with your permission; I will see that everything is safe, and bring the key back to you; Perhaps this may help to dispel the fears that have been raised—at least, I will try to do it.”
“I thank you, father, for your good offices—do as you please.”
Oswald went into the outward room. “I am going,” said he, “to shut up the apartment. The young gentlemen have been more frightened than they had occasion for; I will try to account for it. Which of you will go with me?”
They all drew back, except Joseph, who offered to bear him company. They went into the bedroom in the haunted apartment, and found everything quiet there. They put out the fire, extinguished the lights, locked the door, and brought away the key. As they returned, “I thought how it would be,” said Joseph.
“Hush! not a word,” said Oswald; “you find we are suspected of something, though they know not what. Wait till you are called upon, and then we will both speak to purpose.” They carried the key to the baron.
“All is quiet in the apartment,” said Oswald, “as we can testify.”
“Did you ask Joseph to go with you,” said the baron, “or did he offer himself?”
“My Lord, I asked if anybody would go with me, and they all declined it but he; I thought proper to have a witness beside myself, for whatever might be seen or heard.”
“Joseph, you were servant to the late Lord Lovel; what kind of man was he?”
“A very comely man, please your lordship.”
“Should you know him if you were to see him?”
“I cannot say, my lord.”
“Would you have any objection to sleep a night in that apartment?”
“I beg,”—“I hope,”—“I beseech your lordship not to command me to do it!”
“You are then afraid; why did you offer yourself to go thither?”
“Because I was not so much frightened as the rest.”
“I wish you would lie a night there; but I do not insist upon it.”
“My lord, I am a poor ignorant old man, not fit for such an undertaking; beside, if I should see the ghost, and if it should be the person of my master, and if it should tell me anything, and bid me keep it secret, I should not dare to disclose it; and then, what service should I do your lordship?”
“That is true, indeed,” said the baron.
“This speech,” said Sir Robert, “is both a simple and an artful one. You see, however, that Joseph is not a man for us to depend upon; he regards the Lord Lovel, though dead, more than Lord Fitz-Owen, living; he calls him his master, and promises to keep his secrets. What say you, father, Is the ghost your master, or your friend? Are you under any obligation to keep his
