ich the wind shrieked, and far
overhead there came a confused gabbling noise, accompanied by the
whistling of wings, a strange eerie sound in the darkness that would
have startled a stranger. But the boys only stood still and listened.

"There they go, a regular flight!" said Dick. "If Dave hears them won't
he wish he'd got plenty of powder and lead!"

"Think the old monks'll mind?" said Tom.

"What! that flock of wild-geese going over?"

"No-o-o! Our taking the lead."

"Oh! I say, Tom, you are a chap," cried his companion. "I know you
believe in ghosts."

"No, I don't," said Tom stoutly; "but I shouldn't like to live in your
old place all the same."

"What! because it's part of the old monastery?"

"Yes. The old fellows were all killed when the Danes came up the river
in their boats and burned the place."

"Well, father and I aren't Danes, and we didn't kill them. What stuff!"

"No, but it's not nice all the same to live in a place where lots of
people were murdered."

"Tchah! who cares! I don't. It's a capital old place, and you never
dig anywhere without finding something."

"Yes," said Tom solemnly, "something that isn't always nice."

"Well, you do sometimes," said Dick, "but not often. But I wouldn't
leave the old place for thousands of pounds. Why, where would you get
another like it with its old walls, and vaults, and cellars, and thick
walls, and the monks' fish-ponds, and all right up on a high toft with
the river on one side, and the fen for miles on the other. Look at the
fish."

"Yes; it's all capital," said Tom. "I like it ever so; but it is
precious monky."

"Well, so are you! Who cares about its being monky! The old monks were
jolly old chaps, I know."

"How do you know? Sh! what's that?"

"Fox. Listen."

There was a rush, a splash, a loud cackling noise, and then silence save
for the wind.

"He's got him," cried Tom. "I wish we had Hicky's Grip here; he'd make
him scuffle and run."

"Think it was a fox?" said Tom.

"Sure of it; and it was one of those old mallards he has got. Come on.
Why shouldn't the fox have duck for supper as well as other people?"

"Ah, why not?" said Tom. "But how do you know the monks were jolly old
chaps?"

"How do I know! why, weren't they fond of fishing, and didn't they make
my ponds? I say, let's have a try for the big pike to-morrow. I saw
him fly right out of the water day before yesterday, when it rained.
Oh, I say, it