The others, in wild confusion, rushed after him and tumbled, men and women, head over heels on the prostrate footman, nearly smothering him with their combined weight.

“What mean all this uproar and fright?” said the old knight, rising in great anger. “Are ye all turned mad, ye noisy, raving knaves? Explain, I say, explain!”

But none of the servants could explain anything, for they were all out of breath, and as pale as death.

After a time, when Roger was dragged out with his nose bleeding, he looked about him with a wild and frightened gaze, as he stammered out,

“O-h-h-h, s-i-r! we-e-’ve s-e-e-n him!”

“Seen him! Seen who, knave? Speak quickly! or, by my honour, I’ll whip my sword through your trembling carcase!” said old Sir Richard, getting red in the face. “Speak, some of you!” he continued, looking daggers at his alarmed domestics.

“Oh! m-e-r-cy! master, m-e-r-cy!” croaked out Roger, falling on his knees.

“Speak, rascal! Who have ye seen?”

“The skeleton! ghastly, ghostly, all bones, and sword in hand, grinning like an angry demon.”

“A skeleton!”

“Aye, sir; two on ’em.”

“Two, do you say?”

“Yes, Sir Richard; one at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, and t’other opened the drawing-room door! H-o-o! ask ’em all if it ain’t true, good master!” continued the footman, rolling his eyes and moaning.

“And another grim rascal in armour rushed at us lance in hand at the dining-hall door?” whined Tim, the valiant groom. “Oh, lor, the whole place is full on ’em, I do believe.”

For some moments Sir Richard did not know what to do.

All around him knelt his frightened domestics, groaning and shaking.

“Why, but just now, knave, you said it was all a lark, perhaps, got up by some of the silly villagers to frighten us. Ghosts and living skeletons indeed! There, go down and get your suppers at once, and let’s have no more of such silly nonsense.”

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