42 CKOSSING THE FERRY. 



upon to say what he had seen at the Nab. For 

 weeks after, there were shouts, yells, and howlings 

 at the Nab, on every stormy night, and no boatman 

 would attend to any call after dark. The Reform- 

 ation had not penetrated the region ; and the monk 

 from Furness, who dwelt on one of the islands of 

 the lake, was applied to exorcise the Nab. On 

 Christmas day, he assembled all the inhabitants of 

 Chapel Island, and performed in their presence 

 services which should for ever confine the ghost to 

 the quarry in the wood behind the Ferry, now 

 called the Crier of Claife. Some say that the priest 

 conducted the people to the quarry, and laid the 

 ghost, — then and there. — But laid though it be, 

 nobody goes there at night. It is still told how the 

 foxhounds in eager chase would come to a full 

 stop at that place ; and how, within the existing 

 generation, a schoolmaster from Colthouse, who 

 left home to pass the Crier, was never seen more. 

 Whatever may be said about the repute of ghosts 

 in our day, it is certain that this particular story is 

 not dead. 



Meantime, the heavy, roomy ferry-boat is ready : 

 the horse is taken out of the car ; and both are 

 shipped. Two or three, or half-a-dozen people take 

 advantage of the passage ; the rowers, with their 

 ponderous oars, are on the bench; and the great 

 machine is presently afloat. The Ferry House looks 

 more tempting than ever when seen from under its 

 own sycamores, — jutting out as it does between 

 quiet bays on either hand. The landing takes 

 place on the opposite promontory : the horse is put 

 to, and the traveller is presently at his inn. He is 

 ready for his meal (be it tea or supper) of lake trout 



