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It was a haunted place. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. A shiver slid down inside her. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 04:49:57