The ale duly drunk, Anthony proposed he should ride on to Nettlestead while Wildfire was being shod and return for me in an hour or so, to which I perforce agreeing, he rode away, leaving me to await him, nothing loath. For what with the spirit of Happiness that seemed to pervade this little inn of the "Soaring Lark" and the cheery good humour of its buxom host and hostess, my haunting demons fled awhile and in their place was restored peace. Sitting with George in this low-raftered kitchen while his pretty wife bustled comfortably to and fro, we talked and grew acquainted. "By the way, George," said I, "Mr. Vere-Manville showed me a haunted house called, I think, Raydon Manor, do you know anything of it?" Now at this innocent question, to my surprise George's good humour vanished, his comely features were suddenly overcast, and he exchanged meaning glances with his wife. "Why, sir," he answered at last, speaking in a lowered voice as if fearful of being overheard, "there's some as do say 't is haunted sure-ly." "How?" I demanded. "Well--things 'as been seed, ah, an' heerd in that theer ghastly wood." "What things?" "Well--things as flits an' things as wails--ah, fit to break your 'eart an' chill a man's good flesh. Ghost-lights has been seed at dead o' night, an' folks has 'eer'd music at dead o' night an' screams o' devil-laughter, ah, an' screams as wasn't laughter. Old Gaffer Dick 'e du ha' seed things an' there's me, I've 'eer'd an' seed things--an' lots o' folk beside." "What did you see, George?" "I dunno rightly, sir, an' never shall this side o' glory, but 'twere a shape, a thing--I might call it a ghost an' I might call it a phanitum; hows'ever 't were a shape, sir, as I seed a-floatin' an' a-wailin'--Lord, I'll never forget 'ow it wailed!" Here he mopped his brow at the mere recollection. "But do you never see any one about by day?" "Aye, sir, there be a great, sooty black man for one, a hugeous niggermoor with devil's eyes as roll an' teeth like a dog--there's 'im! An' there's three or four desp'rit-seemin' coves as looks like prize fighters--though they ain't often seed abroad an' then mostly drivin' be'ind fast 'orses, sir--coach, sir." "And what of the owner of the place, Mr. Trenchard, I think his name is?" "Very seldom stirs abroad, sir, an' then allus in a fast-travellin' closed carriage; though there's a-plenty o' company now an' then, 'ard-ridin' gentlemen--specially one as usually travels down from Lunnon in a chaise wi' red wheels--" "What--a black-bodied chaise picked out in yellow?" I enquired sharply. "Aye, sir, the same." "And are there lady visitors as well as gentlemen?" "Aye, there are so, sir--coveys of 'em, very fine feathers an' pretty as pictoors t' look at but--" "Ah!" said I, as he paused, "that kind?" "Aye, sir, if ye know what I mean." "I do! Raydon Manor seems haunted in many ways." "Aye, sir, an' this is very sure--if Innocence ever goes in, it never comes out!"