Oundle

I hear that Mr Priestley is off to Oundle School today. I knew a boy who boarded there many years ago. He told me a story that chilled me to the bone. It was a tale so terrible, so ghastly, that I can hardly bear to recall it even as I sit here in the security of my study at Pity's End, a cup of Earl Grey cradled in my lap.

This boy - Bernard Taylor was his name - told me that one evening he had been reading alone in the library when he had looked out of a nearby window (the library overlooked the churchyard apparently) and had been horrified to see -

But Franz has reminded me that I promised Bernard that I would not repeat that particular tale for fear of permanently upsetting the present young boarders at the school. Franz is quite correct. I did make that promise. Sadly.

I shall leave you to imagine what it was that Bernard saw. Suffice it to say that the poor boy had never fully recovered from the experience and was given to much involuntary twitching and whimpering.