wo days afterwards came the
news of his death. Poor young gentleman! He died in the very room where
Holt had breathed his last; and, oh, if there wasn't a fuss and to-do,
for it turned out that, although he seemed quite poor to us, with little
or no money, he was no end of a swell, and had rich relations, and big
estates coming to him; and, of course, there was a coroner's inquest and
all the rest, and great doctors came down from London, and our Dr.
Stanmore, who lives down the street, was sent for, and though they did
all they could, and examined him, as it were, with a microscope, they
could find no cause for death, and so they give it out that it was
syncope, just as they did in the case of poor Holt. But, sir, it wasn't;
it was fright, sheer fright. The place is haunted. It's a mysterious,
dreadful house, and I only hope you won't have nothing to do with it."

She added a few more words and presently left us.

"That's a strange story," I said, turning to Johnson; "your wife has
excited my curiosity. I should much like to get further particulars."

"There don't seem to be anything more to tell, sir," replied Johnson.
"It's true what the wife says, that the Castle Inn has a bad name. It's
not the first, no, nor the second, death that has occurred there."

"You mentioned your village doctor; do you think he could enlighten me
on the subject?"

"I am sure he would do his best, sir. He lives only six doors away, in a
red house. Maybe you wouldn't mind stepping down the street and speaking
to him?"

"You are sure he would not think it a liberty?"

"Not he, sir; he'll be only too pleased to exchange a word with some one
outside this sleepy little place."

"Then I'll call on him," I answered, and taking up my hat I strolled
down the street. I was lucky in finding Dr. Stanmore at home, and the
moment I saw his face I determined to take him into my confidence.

"The fact is this," I said, when he had shaken hands with me, "I should
not dream of taking this liberty did I not feel certain that you could
help me."

"And in what way?" he asked, not stiffly, but with a keen, inquiring,
interested glance.

"I have been sent down from London to inquire into the Wentworth
mystery," I said.

"Is that so?" he said, with a start. Then he continued gravely: "I fear
you have come on a wild-goose chase. There was nothing discovered at the
autopsy to account for the death. There were no marks on the body, and
all the organs