In certain cases it would appear that, for some reason or other, the hiding place has been specially kept a secret among members of the family.  In the north of England there is Netherall, near Maryport, Cumberland, the seat of the old family of Senhouse.  In this old mansion there is said to be a veritable secret room, its exact position in the house being known but to two persons—­the heir-at-law and the family solicitor.  It is affirmed that never has the secret of this hidden room been revealed to more than two living persons at a time.  This mysterious room has no window, and, despite every endeavour to discover it, has successfully defied the ingenuity of even visitors staying in the house.  This Netherall tradition is very similar to the celebrated one connected with Glamis Castle, the seat of Lord Strathmore, only in the latter case the secret room possesses a window, which, nevertheless, has not led to its identification.  It is known as the “secret room” of the castle, and, although every other part of the castle has been satisfactorily explored, the search for this famous room has been in vain.  None are supposed to be acquainted with its locality save Lord Strathmore, his heir, and the factor of the estate, who are bound not to reveal it unless to their successors in the secret.  Many weird stories have clustered round this remarkable room; one legend connected with which has been thus described: 

    The castle now again behold,
    Then mark yon lofty turret bold,
    Which frowns above the western wing,
    Its grim walls darkly shadowing. 
    There is a room within that tower
    No mortal dare approach; the power
    Of an avenging God is there. 
    Dread—­awfully display’d—­beware! 
    And enter not that dreadful room,
    Else yours may be a fearful doom.

According to one legendary romance—­founded on an incident which is said to have occurred during one of the carousals of the Earl of Crawford, otherwise styled “Earl Beardie” or the “Tiger Earl”—­there was many years ago a grand “meet” at Glamis, as the result of which many a noble deer lay dead upon the hill, and many a grizzly boar dyed with his heart’s blood the rivers of the plain.  As the day drew to its close, “the wearied huntsmen, with their fair attendants, returned, ’midst the sounds of martial music and the low whispered roundelays of the ladies, victorious to the castle.”  In the old baronial dining hall was spread a sumptuous and savoury feast, at which “venison and reeking game, rich smoked ham and savoury roe, flanked by the wild boar’s head, and viands and pasties without name, blent profusely on the hospitable board, while jewelled and capacious goblets, filled with ruby wine, were lavishly handed round to the admiring guests.”