The same ghost scared them both out of the castle last night.

I understand she wanders about the castle weeping.

Oh, she's on her way to the Clampett Castle.

Like all English castles, we have one in residence.

The ghost of Clampett Castle walks tonight, and Granny is terrified.

I'm still paying court to yon fair maid over to the next castle.

I read up on these here castle ghosts, and all you gots to do is hold a seance and exercise harassment.

Mr. Flavisham just told me.

400 years ago, this very day, Lady Clementine was married here.

But...

On her wedding night, her bridegroom, Sir Roger, was murdered.

Murdered?

And in her grief, Lady Clementine flung herself from a battlement into the rose garden below.

What a mess.

Now she comes back looking for her who killed her husband.

Weeping and wailing, mourning her bloody threats.

Oh, if she ever finds that murderer.

Who done it?

Oh, of course not.

I'd just love to stay and get my head bashed in by one of your bloodthirsty relatives.