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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Tales of a Traveller"


"That's all that belongs to the story," said Peechy Prauw.
"And did Sam never find out what was buried by the redcaps?" said
Wolfert, eagerly; whose mind was haunted by nothing but ingots and
doubloons.
"Not that I know of; he had no time to spare from his work; and to tell
the truth, he did not like to run the risk of another race among the
rocks. Besides, how should he recollect the spot where the grave had
been digged? every thing would look different by daylight. And then,
where was the use of looking for a dead body, when there was no chance
of hanging the murderers?"
"Aye, but are you sure it was a dead body they buried?" said Wolfert.
"To be sure," cried Peechy Prauw, exultingly. "Does it not haunt in the
neighborhood to this very day?"
"Haunts!" exclaimed several of the party, opening their eyes still
wider and edging their chairs still closer.
"Aye, haunts," repeated Peechy; "has none of you heard of father
red-cap that haunts the old burnt farm-house in the woods, on the
border of the Sound, near Hell Gate?"
"Oh, to be sure, I've heard tell of something of the kind, but then I
took it for some old wives' fable."
"Old wives' fable or not," said Peechy Prauw, "that farmhouse stands
hard by the very spot. It's been unoccupied time out of mind, and
stands in a wild, lonely part of the coast; but those who fish in the
neighborhood have often heard strange noises there; and lights have
been seen about the wood at night; and an old fellow in a red cap has
been seen at the windows more than once, which people take to be the
ghost of the body that was buried there.


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