One evening at dark the butler was hastening down the avenue on some errand to the lodge-keeper's, when suddenly a lady hurried past him, and he heard nothing but a faint rustle as of her dress, or the faint flickering of the remaining autumn leaves in the breeze overhead. As it was at a time when all the ladies were supposed to be indoors curiosity piqued him to follow her and watch her movements. She hurried on without once looking round, and finally disappeared through a disused cellar door which he knew to be locked and rusted from want of use. Not till then did it strike the butler that there was anything uncanny about the lady that had hurried past him in the gloom of the evening. No satisfactory explanation of these unpleasant experiences has ever been established. Mr Blacklock, in his notes on _Twenty Years' Holidaying in the Glenkens_, makes mention of the Glenlee ghost, and adds that Lady Ashburton was said to have poisoned her husband, who was afflicted with _morbus pediculus_. 'Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap'--and there is a further tradition that Lady Ashburton's butler poisoned her in turn, in order to possess himself of some valuables which he coveted. [Illustration: THE HEADLESS PIPER OF PATIESTHORN. Sketch by J. Copland, Dundrennan.] The disturbances are chiefly connected with the old part of the house, the bedroom and dressing-room previously mentioned, which seem to be the chief haunts of this yet unlaid ghost." In the village of Dalry itself there stood a row of houses called Bogle-Hole, on the site now occupied by the school. In one of these houses a man was said to have poisoned his wife, and the ghost of the murdered woman has, according to credible authority, appeared even within recent years. The following singular story is connected with the lonely district of the Moor of Corsock: