n many parts of England. Its original owners had been persons
of importance many generations back, but their name and fame had passed
away. The lands connected with the Hall had become absorbed into other
properties; and the building itself had gradually crumbled down, many a
neighbouring farm-house owing some of its most solid and ornamental
portions to the massive ruins from which they had been borrowed or
taken. Still, enough had been left to show that the place had once been
a mansion of considerable pretensions. The old gateway, with its
portcullis and drawbridge, was still standing, while the moat which
surrounded the entire building indicated that it had been originally of
very capacious dimensions. The roof and most of the walls had long
since disappeared; trees grew in the centre, and spread out their
branches over the space once occupied by the dormitories, while a
profusion of ivy concealed many a curiously carved arch and window.
From the gateway the ground sloped rapidly, affording a fine view of the
neighbouring country. Behind the house was high ground, once thickly
wooded, and still partially covered with trees and underwood. The Hall
was about two miles distant from Crossbourne, and was well-known to most
of its inhabitants, though but seldom visited, except occasionally by
picnic parties in summer-time. Old tradition pronounced it to be
haunted, but though such an idea was ridiculed now by everybody whenever
the superstition was alluded to, yet very few persons would have liked
to venture into the ruins alone after dark; and, indeed, the loneliness
of the situation made it by no means a desirable place for solitary
evening musings.

The ordinary way to the Hall was by a footpath leading to it out of the
highroad across fields for a distance of nearly a quarter of a mile. It
could also be approached by a much less frequented track, which passed
along sequestered lanes out of the main road from the town of Foxleigh,
the nearest town to Crossbourne by rail, and brought the traveller to
it, after a walk of six miles from Foxleigh, through the overhanging
wooded ground which has been mentioned as rising up in the rear of the
old ruins.

The only exception to the dilapidated state of the premises was a large
vaulted cellar or underground room. Its existence, however, had been
well-nigh forgotten, except by a few who occasionally visited it, and
kept the secret of the entrance to it to themselves.