The lord of the castle had died. It meant big changes for him. This is his story from that moment. Readable on any device with the free app above.Chapter sixteen. I watched the family enter the cars. It was an impressive sight, black Rolls and Bentleys, one following another along the gravel driveway, then disappearing between the trees. The ghost of the librarian was waiting near the graveyard when I arrived on the path. I moved to wait near him. He had chosen the best spot to view proceedings without interfering. I saw the cars arrive, and waiting footmen help the family out. I watched uneasily as I saw the hearse, a black Rolls from the funeral parlor, approach slowly up the pathway. I saw my sons and some young men from the villages take the coffin from the hearse and start up the path, their feet shuffling in nervy small steps, not wanting to drop the coffin. I felt the same way, and stepped forward to catch it as one half stumbled. He recovered, which was just as well. The librarian stretched out an arm to keep me back. "You don't want to make them nervous," he said. "Indeed I don't," I said ruefully. When the last people had gone through the gate, I saw, to my astonishment, a row of ghostly Earls of Sedgemont, going back all the way to the first Earl. Among them were a few members of Royalty. I recognized the more recent ones, but some ancient Kings had pride of place near the head of the row. "They like to do this," said the librarian. "Do what?" I asked. "They always attend the Earl's funeral," said the librarian. "What an honor," I said. "I never knew." Now that it was empty, I saw them step forward onto the path, and follow the others through the gate. I saw a vast crowd of villagers behind them. "The villagers of the ages," said the librarian. "Where do they come from?" I asked. "They haunt the villages, and cottages in the fields and on the estate," said the librarian. "Especially the ruined ones." I was awed. I had no idea my burial would be such an occasion. The villagers did not go through the gate, but sang a quiet hymn. A thousand ghostly voices in perfect harmony. "Follow me," said the librarian. He led the way through the crowd of relatives, staff, and ghostly guests to the graveside. We stood on the opposite side of the grave, which was empty.The casket was lowered into the ground without mishap by strong young men. While the priest was talking my ghostly ancestors and their royal guests filed past the grave, stooped, and threw a handful of sand into the grave. Not real sand, but they went through the motions quite quickly so that everyone would have a turn while the priest spoke. Each looked across the grave and met my eye, and nodded respectfully. I felt greatly honored. "Where do the earls stay?" I asked. "In the old wing of the castle, my lord," the librarian said. The sight of so many of the ancestors he had read so much about was quite overpowering him. "There are many rooms in the old wing," I said. "They are empty and in need of repair, and some are quite dingy, but they prefer to be on the estate," he said. The living departed, solemn and subdued. The ghostly guests took their leave of the earls, particularly those of their own era, and vanished one by one. The earls followed, and then the thousand strong crowd of villagers from the ages vanished quickly. The gravediggers were busy filling in the grave, while the priest watched to see it all done properly. Author pagehttps: //www.amazon.com/author/robertfieldsAlso by Robert FieldsDiary of a ghost https: //www.amazon.com/dp/B077YL8V64The day I died https: //www.amazon.com/dp/B077ZDQ16GWars of the galaxies 100,000 ad https: //www.amazon.com/dp/B077XKC2R8The one and only true time https: //www.amazon.com/dp/B079K5WY2P
