d "Bloody Chamber," for the
marks are only in reality natural red tinges of the wood, denoting the
presence of iron.

In addition to the appearance of such indelible marks of crime,
oftentimes the ghost of the spiller of blood, or of the murdered
person, haunts the scene. Thus, Northam Tower, Yorkshire, an embattled
structure of the time of Henry VII.--a true Border mansion--has long
been famous for the visits of some mysterious spectre in the form of a
lady who was cruelly murdered in the wood, her blood being pointed out
on the stairs of the old tower. Another tragic story is told of the
Manor House which Bishop Pudsey built at Darlington. It was for very
many years a residence of the Bishops of Durham, and a resting place
of Margaret, bride of James IV., of Scotland, and daughter of Henry
VII., in her splendid progress through the country. This building was
restored at great expense in the year 1668, and gained a widespread
notoriety on account of the ghost story of Lady Jerratt, who was
murdered there; but, as a testimony of the violent death she had
received, "she left on the wall ghastly impressions of a thumb and
fingers in blood for ever," and always made her appearance with one
arm, the other having been cut off for the sake of a valuable ring on
one of the fingers.

One room of Holland House is supposed to be haunted by Lord Holland,
the first of his name and the chief builder of this splendid old
mansion. According to Princess Marie Lichtenstein, in her "History of
Holland House," "the gilt room is said to be tenanted by the solitary
ghost of its first lord, who, runs the tradition, issues forth at
midnight from behind a secret door, and walks slowly through the
scenes of former triumphs with his head in his hand." And to add to
this mystery, there is a tale of three spots of blood on one side of
the recess whence he issues--three spots which can never be effaced.

Stains of blood--stains that cannot be washed away--are to be seen on
the floor of a certain room at Calverley Hall, Yorkshire. And there is
one particular flag in the cellar which is never without a mysterious
damp place upon it, all the other flags being dry. Of course these are
the witnesses of a terrible tragedy which was committed years ago
within the walls of Calverley Hall. It appears that Walter Calverley,
who had married Philippa Brooke, daughter of Lord Cobham, was a wild
reckless man, though his wife was a most estimable and virtuous