of the details--the smaller ones at all events--having escaped my
memory.

When I was grown up, I stayed for a few weeks near Oxenby, and met, at a
garden party, a Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, the then occupants of the Manor
House.

I asked if they believed in ghosts, and told them I had always heard
their house was haunted.

"Well," they said, "we never believed in ghosts till we came to Oxenby,
but we have seen and heard such strange things since we have been in the
Manor House that we are now prepared to believe anything."

They then went on to tell me that they--and many of their visitors and
servants--had seen the phantasms of a very hideous and malignant old
man, clad in tight-fitting hosiery of mediæval days, and a maimed and
bleeding big, black cat, that seemed sometimes to drop from the ceiling,
and sometimes to be thrown at them. In one of the passages all sorts of
queer sounds, such as whinings, meanings, screeches, clangings of pails
and rattlings of chains, were heard, whilst something, no one could ever
see distinctly, but which they all felt to be indescribably nasty,
rushed up the cellar steps and flew past, as if engaged in a desperate
chase. Indeed, the disturbances were of so constant and harrowing a
nature, that the wing had to be vacated and was eventually locked up.

The Wheelers excavated in different parts of the haunted wing and found,
in the cellar, at a depth of some eight or nine feet, the skeletons of
three men and two women; whilst in the wainscoting of the passage they
discovered the bones of a boy, all of which remains they had properly