"Eh, my masters," replied he, "'tis not to be beaten in all Yorkshire for good sport--trout, dace, chub, and even the lordly salmon; and as for t'old castle--well, 'tis said that spooks be about. Leastwise I never care to go yonder missen, for strange noises affright the whole countryside!"
"Oh!" I ejaculated. "And is that so?"
"Ay, young sir. With the disappearance of Sir Owen, the owner of Holwick, after the taking of the castle some two-and-twenty years ago by the malignants--and a curse be on 'em all--Sir Owen was last seen fighting his way through the rebel foot. They say he was killed, and his body buried in the dry moat by the rebels; and ever since that time we often hear most fearsome cries and noises."
When we had arranged for a few days' stay, a serving man led our horses awa
