eceived with more absolute
credulity than in the Isle of Man.

Amidst all these ruins of an older time arose the Castle itself,--now
ruinous--but in Charles II.'s reign well garrisoned, and, in a military
point of view, kept in complete order. It was a venerable and very
ancient building, containing several apartments of sufficient size
and height to be termed noble. But in the surrender of the island by
Christian, the furniture had been, in a great measure, plundered or
destroyed by the republican soldiers; so that, as we have before
hinted, its present state was ill adapted for the residence of the noble
proprietor. Yet it had been often the abode, not only of the Lords of
Man, but of those state prisoners whom the Kings of Britain sometimes
committed to their charge.

In this Castle of Holm-Peel the great king-maker, Richard, Earl of
Warwick, was confined, during one period of his eventful life, to
ruminate at leisure on his farther schemes of ambition. And here, too,
Eleanor, the haughty wife of the good Duke of Gloucester, pined out in
seclusion the last days of her banishment. The sentinels pretended that
her discontented spectre was often visible at night, traversing the
battlements of the external walls, or standing motionless beside a
particular solitary turret of one of the watch-towers with which they
are flanked; but dissolving into air at cock-crow, or when the bell
tolled from the yet remaining tower of St. Germain's church.

Such was Holm-Peel, as records inform us, till towards the end of the
seventeenth century.

It was in one of the lofty but almost unfurnished apartments of this
ancient Castle that Julian Peveril found his friend the Earl of Derby,
who had that moment sat down to a breakfast composed of various sorts
of fish. "Welcome, most imperial Julian," he said; "welcome to our royal
fortress; in which, as yet, we are not like to be starved with hunger,
though well-nigh dead for cold."

Julian answered by inquiring the meaning of this sudden movement.

"Upon my word," replied the Earl, "you know nearly as much of it as I
do. My mother has told me nothing about it; supposing I believe, that
I shall at length be tempted to inquire; but she will find herself much
mistaken. I shall give her credit for full wisdom in her proceedings,
rather than put her to the trouble to render a reason, though no woman
can render one better."

"Come, come; this is affectation, my good friend," said Julian. "Y