ls of which are fifteen feet thick--there
is a room, hidden in some unsuspected quarter, that contains a secret
(the keynote to one, at least, of the hauntings) which is known only
to the Earl, his heir (on the attainment of his twenty-first
birthday), and the factor of the estate.

In all probability, the mystery attached to this room would challenge
but little attention, were it not for the fact that unearthly noises,
which at the time were supposed to proceed from this chamber, have
been heard by various visitors sleeping in the Square Tower.

The following experience is said to have happened to a lady named
Bond. I append it more or less in her own words.

* * * * *

It is a good many years since I stayed at Glamis. I was, in fact, but
little more than a child, and had only just gone through my first
season in town. But though young, I was neither nervous nor
imaginative; I was inclined to be what is termed stolid, that is to
say, extremely matter-of-fact and practical. Indeed, when my friends
exclaimed, "You don't mean to say you are going to stay at Glamis!
Don't you know it's haunted?" I burst out laughing.

"Haunted!" I said, "how ridiculous! There are no such things as
ghosts. One might as well believe in fairies."

Of course I did not go to Glamis alone--my mother and sister were with
me; but whereas they slept in the more modern part of the castle, I
was, at my own request, apportioned a room in the Square Tower.

I cannot say that my choice had anything to do with the secret
chamber. That, and the alleged mystery, had been dinned into my ears
so often that I had grown thoroughly sick of the whole thing. No, I
wanted to sleep in the Square Tower for quite a different reason, a
reason of my own. I kept an aviary; the tower was old; and I naturally
hoped its walls would be covered with ivy and teeming with birds'
nests, some of which I might be able to reach--and, I am ashamed to
say, plunder--from my window.

Alas, for my expectations! Although the Square Tower was so ancient
that in some places it was actually crumbling away--not the sign of a
leaf, not the vestige of a bird's nest could I see anywhere; the
walls were abominably, brutally bare. However, it was not long before
my disappointment gave way to delight; for the air that blew in
through the open window was so sweet, so richly scented with heather
and honeysuckle, and the view of the broad, sweeping, thickly wo