There was some disputing already among the leaders of the sport. The
squire, Master Simon, and old Christy, came every now and then to a
pause, to consult together, like the field officers in an army; and I
saw, by certain motions of the head, that Christy was as positive as any
old, wrong-headed German commander.

[Illustration: The Consultation in the Field]

As we were prancing up this quiet meadow every sound we made was
answered by a distinct echo from the sunny wall of an old building that
lay on the opposite margin of the stream; and I paused to listen to the
"spirit of a sound," which seems to love such quiet and beautiful
places. The parson informed me that this was the ruin of an ancient
grange, and was supposed by the country people to be haunted by a
dobbie, a kind of rural sprite, something like Robin-Goodfellow. They
often fancied the echo to be the voice of the dobbie answering them, and
were rather shy of disturbing it after dark. He added, that the squire
was very careful of this ruin, on account of the superstition connected
with it. As I considered this local habitation of an "airy nothing," I
called to mind the fine description of an echo in Webster's Duchess of
Malfy:

--"'Yond side o' th' river lies a wall,
Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion
Gives the best echo that you have ever heard:
So plain in the distinction of our words
That many have supposed it a spirit
That answers."