“They set off back, and were soon at the inn, and here, whilst the donkey was being loaded, and the candles and whisky distributed, Dennis was doing his best to keep Wentworth from going back; but he was a sensible man in his way, for when he found that it was no use, he stopped.  You see, he did not want to frighten the others from accompanying Wentworth.

“‘I tell ye, sorr,’ he told him, ‘’tis of no use at all, thryin’ ter reclaim ther castle.  ‘Tis curst with innocent blood, an’ ye’ll be betther pullin’ it down, an’ buildin’ a fine new wan.  But if ye be intendin’ to shtay this night, kape the big dhoor open whide, an’ watch for the bhlood-dhrip.  If so much as a single dhrip falls, don’t shtay though all the gold in the worrld was offered ye.’

“Wentworth asked him what he meant by the blood-drip.

“‘Shure,’ he said, ’’tis the bhlood av thim as ould Black Mick ’way back in the ould days kilt in their shlape.  ’Twas a feud as he pretendid to patch up, an’ he invited thim—­the O’Haras they was—­siventy av thim.  An’ he fed thim, an’ shpoke soft to thim, an’ thim thrustin’ him, sthayed to shlape with him.  Thin, he an’ thim with him, stharted in an’ mhurdered thim was an’ all as they slep’.  ’Tis from me father’s grandfather ye have the sthory.  An’ sence thin ’tis death to any, so they say, to pass the night in the castle whin the bhlood-dhrip comes.  ’Twill put out candle an’ fire, an’ thin in the darkness the Virgin Herself would be powerless to protect ye.’

“Wentworth told me he laughed at this; chiefly because, as he put it:—­’One always must laugh at that sort of yarn, however it makes you feel inside.’  He asked old Dennis whether he expected him to believe it.

“‘Yes, sorr,’ said Dennis, ‘I do mane ye to b’lieve it; an’ please God, if ye’ll b’lieve, ye may be back safe befor’ mornin’.’  The man’s serious simplicity took hold of Wentworth, and he held out his hand.  But, for all that, he went; and I must admire his pluck.

“There were now about forty men, and when they got back to the Manor—­or castle as the villagers always call it—­they were not long in getting a big fire going, and lighted candles all ’round the great hall.  They had all brought sticks; so that they would have been a pretty formidable lot to tackle by anything simply physical; and, of course, Wentworth had his gun.  He kept the whisky in his own charge; for he intended to keep them sober; but he gave them a good strong tot all ’round first, so as to make things seem cheerful; and to get them yearning.  If you once let a crowd of men like that grow silent, they begin to think, and then to fancy things.

“The big entrance door had been left wide open, by his orders; which shows that he had taken some notice of Dennis.  It was a quiet night, so this did not matter, for the lights kept steady, and all went on in a jolly sort of fashion for about three hours.  He had opened a second lot of bottles, and everyone was feeling cheerful; so much so that one of the men called out aloud to the ghosts to come out and show themselves.  And then, you know a very extraordinary thing happened; for the ponderous main door swung quietly and steadily to, as though pushed by an invisible hand, and shut with a sharp click.