The Collingwoods had been lords of Collingwood ever since tradition could tell of them. They were, it was said, old as the chalky Chiltern Hills and the woods of Whaddon Chase, and stories of their prowess had been rife among the people since the days when Edward was murdered at Tewkesbury, when 'bluff King Hal' burnt Catholics and Protestants together with perfect impartiality at Smithfield, when Mary spent her maudlin love on Philip, and Queen Bess boxed the ears of her courtiers: all had figured in history somehow; and everywhere, over the gateway half hidden by ivy, in the painted oriels, on the gables, and on the buttons of the livery servants, were three eels wavy on a bend, indicating a heraldic portion of the tenure by which they held their land, like the lord of Aylesbury in the same county--'By the sergentry of finding straw for the bed of the Defender of the Faith, with three eels for his supper, when he should travel that way.' Built, patched, and repaired in various ages, the Court is one of the most picturesque old mansions in the county. In one portion, chiefly inhabited by crows and bats, there was a half-ruined remnant left by the Wars of the Roses, on which the present Tudor, or, rather, Elizabethan mansion, with its peaked gables, oriel windows, and clustered chimney-stacks--square, twisted, or fluted--had been engrafted. Hawthorn, holly, and ivy grew out of the clefts of the ruinous portion; and there in childhood had Clare and Ida made baby houses; and there they had devoured in secret many a fairy and ghost story, and thrilled with joy over that of the 'Ugly Duckling.' The terrace balustrades were mossy and green, and though Carnaby Court had an old and decayed aspect, there was a lingering grandeur about it. The plate in the dining-hall was famous in the county for its value and antiquity, though many a goblet and salver had gone to the melting-pot when King Charles unfurled his standard at Nottingham. We have said that stories had been rumoured about of a figure seen in the garden and elsewhere; and Sir Carnaby, who loathed scenes, excitement, worry, 'and all that sort of thing,' as he phrased it (though he had undergone enough and to spare), was intensely provoked when the old butler gave him some hint of the shadowy addition to the family at the Court. 'A ghost!' he exclaimed, with his gold glasses on his long, thin nose. 'Yes, sir--so they say.' 'They--who? Stuff! If this absurd story gets abroad, we shall find ourselves a subject for the speculation of the vulgar here and the spiritualists everywhere; and the house may be beset by all manner of intruders. And what is it like?' 'Nobody knows; a tall man in black, I have heard,' replied the butler. 'Black! How do ghosts or spirits get clothes?' 'I don't know, Sir Carnaby.'