of the man who built it, through the French line (for a Norman baron
wedded the daughter and heiress of the Saxon), dwelt there yet; and in
each century they had done something for the old Hall,--building a
tower, adding a suite of rooms, strengthening what was already built,
putting in a painted window, making it more spacious and convenient,--
till it seemed as if Time employed himself in thinking what could be
done for the old house. As fast as any part decayed, it was renewed,
with such simple art that the new completed, as it were, and fitted
itself to the old. So that it seemed as if the house never had been
finished, until just that thing was added. For many an age, the
possessors had gone on adding strength to strength, digging out the
moat to a greater depth, piercing the walls with holes for archers to
shoot through, or building a turret to keep watch upon. But at last all
necessity for these precautions passed away, and then they thought of
convenience and comfort, adding something in every generation to these.
And by and by they thought of beauty too; and in this time helped them
with its weather-stains, and the ivy that grew over the walls, and the
grassy depth of the dried-up moat, and the abundant shade that grew up
everywhere, where naked strength would have been ugly.

"One curious thing in the house," said the Doctor, lowering his voice,
but with a mysterious look of triumph, and that old scowl, too, at the
children, "was that they built a secret chamber,--a very secret one!"

"A secret chamber!" cried little Ned; "who lived in it? A ghost?"

"There was often use for it," said Doctor Grim; "hiding people who had
fought on the wrong side, or Catholic priests, or criminals, or
perhaps--who knows?--enemies that they wanted put out of the way,--
troublesome folks. Ah! it was often of use, that secret chamber: and is