times thrown open my bedroom window about dawn for an hour to familiarise myself with the outside noises.  There is nothing human within a quarter of a mile. (N.B.—­The others, who are much more likely to be accurate as to distance than I, say the lodges are farther off.) The servants’ houses are in a group of buildings on the hill above the house, but are, I believe, all empty.  We found, and adopted, a deserted cat, whose condition certainly testified to the nakedness of the land.  There are two inhabited lodges far out of hearing.  A gardener comes round to the houses about 10 or 10.30 P.M., but we have watched him, and know exactly what sounds he creates.

February 10th, Wednesday.—­Mrs. W——­ arrived this morning from London; also Miss Langton, who is “sensitive,” but wholly inexperienced.  In the evening, at 6 P.M., Colonel Taylor arrived.  He is in No. 8.

Miss Moore and I moved back into No. 1, and moved Mr. F——­ into No. 3, the room reported (by the H——­s) as specially haunted, where Colonel A——­ and Major B——­ had slept, and in our time Mr. L——­ F——­, who left last night.

The wing is now ready for habitation, except that the pipes are out of order, and the “set-basins” useless, also the bath. (N.B.—­The fact that the pipes are all out of working order, and not a drop of hot water is to be had except in the kitchen, does away with a theory, which has been rather emphatically put forward, that “it is all the hot-water pipes.”)

We are anxious to test the wing.  Only one story, Miss “B——­’s,” is connected with it, and if there has been any practical joking anywhere, I personally incline to think that was the occasion.  The wing is new, built, they say, in 1883, and the “ghost” showed human intelligence in selection of doors and victims.  (After my return to London I had a conversation with Mrs. G——­, which convinced me that I was mistaken in supposing that tricks had been played upon Miss “B——.”  See p. 71.)

An old woman in the village asked Miss Moore to-day with interest, “Hoo’ll ye be liking B——?” She spoke of the hauntings, and her husband insisted (the Highlander always begins that way) that there were not any, and so on, and the old woman explained that it was just the young gentlemen last year that was having a lark.  Later she admitted, “There’s nae ghaists at B——­, but the old Major” (who died about twenty years ago); “he’d just be saying to Gracie if she didn’t do as she was told, that he’d be coming back and belay the decks” (cf. p. 136).

P.S.—­Monday 15th.—­In the kirkyard to-day at L——­ we were shown the Major’s grave.  It is one of three, inclosed by a rough stone wall.  They have no headstones, and seem quite uncared for.  One is, we are informed, that of his housekeeper, Sarah N——.  The other is said to be that of a black man-servant.

   Last night we slept as follows:—­