The fact was, the doctor had a secret belief in ghosts,
having passed the early part of his life in a country where they
particularly abound; and indeed the story went, that, when a boy, he
had once seen the devil upon the Hartz mountains in Germany.
At length, the doctor's vexations on this head were brought to a
crisis. One morning, as he sat dozing over a volume in his study, he
was suddenly started from his slumbers by the bustling in of the
housekeeper.
"Here's a fine to do!" cried she, as she entered the room. "Here's
Claus Hopper come in, bag and baggage, from the farm, and swears he'll
have nothing more to do with it. The whole family have been frightened
out of their wits; for there's such racketing and rummaging about the
old house, that they can't sleep quiet in their beds!"
"Donner und blitzen!" cried the doctor, impatiently; "will they never
have done chattering about that house? What a pack of fools, to let a
few rats and mice frighten them out of good quarters!"
"Nay, nay," said the housekeeper, wagging her head knowingly, and
piqued at having a good ghost story doubted, "there's more in it than
rats and mice. All the neighbourhood talks about the house; and then
such sights have been seen in it! Peter de Groodt tells me, that the
family that sold you the house and went to Holland, dropped several
strange hints about it, and said, 'they wished you joy of your
bargain;' and you know yourself there's no getting any family to live
in it.
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