wanting to round off the mediaevalism of my
abode, and to render it symmetrically and completely antique.
Goresthorpe Grange is not provided with a ghost.

Any man with old-fashioned tastes and ideas as to how such
establishments should be conducted would have been disappointed at the
omission. In my case it was particularly unfortunate. From my
childhood I had been an earnest student of the supernatural, and a firm
believer in it. I have reveled in ghostly literature until there is
hardly a tale bearing upon the subject which I have not perused. I
learned the German language for the sole purpose of mastering a book
upon demonology. When an infant I have secreted myself in dark rooms
in the hope of seeing some of those bogies with which my nurse used to
threaten me; and the same feeling is as strong in me now as then. It
was a proud moment when I felt that a ghost was one of the luxuries
which my money might command.

It is true that there was no mention of an apparition in the
advertisement. On reviewing the mildewed walls, however, and the
shadowy corridors, I had taken it for granted that there was such a
thing on the premises. As the presence of a kennel presupposes that of
a dog, so I imagined that it was impossible that such desirable
quarters should be untenanted by one or more restless shades. Good
heavens, what can the noble family from whom I purchased it have been
doing these hundreds of years! Was there no member of it spirited
enough to make away with his sweetheart, or take some other steps
calculated to establish a hereditary spectre? Even now I can hardly
write with patience upon the subject.

For a long time I hoped against hope. Never did rat squeak behind the
wainscot, or rain drip upon the attic floor, without a wild thrill
shooting through me as I thought that at last I had come upon traces of
some unquiet soul. I felt no touch of fear upon these occasions. If
it occurred in the night-time, I would send Mrs. D'Odd--who is a
strong-minded woman--to investigate the matter while I covered up my
head with the bedclothes and indulged in an ecstasy of expectation.
Alas, the result was always the same! The suspicious sound would be
traced to some cause so absurdly natural and commonplace that the most
fervid imagination could not clothe it with any of the glamour of
romance.

I might have reconciled myself to this state of things had it not been
for Jorrocks, of Havistock Farm. Jorroc