the twilight park, had turned out to be carrying, not a
gun, but a crossbow.

Of other houses connected with Catholic memories I may mention two in
Yorkshire--Everingham Park and Houghton, then the respective homes of
the late Lord Herries and his kinsman, Mr. Charles Langdale. Both were
hereditary and absolutely unquestioning Catholics; and, strange to say,
a large part of their tenantry were hereditary Catholics also. Each of
these houses has a great chapel attached to it, and every Sunday
processions of farmers' dogcarts would deposit their occupants at doors
the decorations of which plainly showed that for these stalwart
Englishmen the Protestant Reformation was no more than a dream.

But putting the question of Catholic atmosphere aside, and reverting
once more to castles, I may begin with a mention of Chillingham,
sheltered by the shadowy woods and surrounded by the moors of
Northumberland.

As compared with Alnwick, Chillingham is a small structure. Apart from
some offices added during the nineteenth century, it occupies an area
measuring a hundred and twenty feet by a hundred. The outer walls are of
enormous thickness, with a tower at each corner; and against these outer
walls the rooms which constitute the dwelling, much less massive in
their masonry, are built round a small court. They have hardly been
altered since the days of Inigo Jones. When I stayed there with Sir
Andrew Noble, who for many years was Lord Tankerville's tenant, the
whole of the furniture seemed to have grown old with the house. The most
modern contents of the bookshelves were the novels of Mrs. Radcliffe,
whose faded backs would grow young again in the flickering warmth of
fires. Beneath the external windows were the box borders of a garden,
and visible on distant slopes were the movements of wild cattle.

Another castle with which I was very familiar was Elvaston, near Derby,
where year after year I stayed with the late Lord and Lady Harrington.
Originally a red-brick manor house, it was castellated in the days of
Wyatt; and though architects of to-day would smile at its artificial
Gothic, it may now for this very reason be regarded as a historical
monument. It is a monument of tastes and sentiments which have long
since passed away. It represents not only a vanished taste in
architecture, but sentiments also which are now even more remote. The
Earl of Harrington, under whom the Gothic transfiguration was
accomplished, seems to have r