“You were the first at the door.”

“Suppose I was, that don’t matter.”

“You’re afraid?”

“No I ain’t.”

“Yes you are, Tim.”

“If you think so, then follow me,” said the young groom, plucking up all his spare courage, and flourishing his riding-whip.

The domestics left the room, and proceeded cautiously and slowly down the stairs towards the servants’ hall, creeping along, one after the other, in the dark.

They had all got as far as the large, old oak baronial dining-room, on the ground floor, and were creeping along through the spacious entrance hall, towards the head of the kitchen stairs, when every one stopped.

For a moment they stood in the darkness, breathing very hard, when their ears were startled by the sudden clanking of chains!

The sound proceeded from the baronial hall, where for centuries had stood wooden figures, clothed in armour!

The clanking noise sounded so horrible, that they all rushed down the kitchen stairs, one on top of another, in wild confusion.

Roger, the footman, was the first to make the descent, which he did six stairs at a time.

But directly he and the rest got to the bottom in breathless haste, they were still more horrified at the sight that confronted them.

For there stood at the foot of the stairs a skeleton form, sword in hand!

“Ha! ha!” he gruffly laughed, as he flourished his weapon.

The footman shouted in terror, and turned on his heel to flee upstairs again.

The rest followed him, bellowing and screaming at the top of their voices.

 Prev. P 33/570 next