more warlike predecessor, the outer had been allowed to dry up,
and served the humble function of a kitchen garden. The inner
one was still there, and lay forty feet in breadth, though now
only a few feet in depth, round the whole house. A small stream
fed it and continued beyond it, so that the sheet of water,
though turbid, was never ditchlike or unhealthy. The ground
floor windows were within a foot of the surface of the water.

The only approach to the house was over a drawbridge, the chains
and windlass of which had long been rusted and broken. The
latest tenants of the Manor House had, however, with
characteristic energy, set this right, and the drawbridge was not
only capable of being raised, but actually was raised every
evening and lowered every morning. By thus renewing the custom
of the old feudal days the Manor House was converted into an
island during the night--a fact which had a very direct bearing
upon the mystery which was soon to engage the attention of all
England.

The house had been untenanted for some years and was threatening
to moulder into a picturesque decay when the Douglases took
possession of it. This family consisted of only two
individuals--John Douglas and his wife. Douglas was a remarkable
man, both in character and in person. In age he may have been
about fifty, with a strong-jawed, rugged face, a grizzling
moustache, peculiarly keen gray eyes, and a wiry, vigorous figure
which had lost nothing of the strength and activity of youth. He
was cheery and genial to all, but somewhat offhand in his
manners, giving the impression that he had seen life in social
strata on some far lower horizon than the county society of