I once bought a Victorian violin from a noted antique shop that is no longer there; it used to stand in a row of old shops just of Elvet Bridge in Durham and was noted for its many musical curiosities. The violin was an old one - locally made according to the proprietor - very much a folk fiddle in every sense: roughly carved, but quite charming as much folk-art can be. In lieu of a scroll there was a grotesque 'Green Man' which I recognised as being copied from a prototype in the cloisters of Durham Cathedral. An odd choice, I thought, for a Victorian violin maker to incorporate such a thing when fashionability for Green Men began no early than 1970, some 140 years after my fiddle was made. Still, there is a gravestone from 1830 in the churchyard of St Brandons at Brancepeth Castle featuring a copy of a 'Green Man' from Rosslyn Chapel; that my fiddle was from 1830 too only served to add to the intrigue and, if I'm honest, the unease. For no sooner had I bought my violin (did I say it was cheap? Even by the standards of the time I felt £50 for such piece was too good to be true somehow) and left the shop than I got the impression that I wasn't alone; that I was being followed, a presence, forever on the edge of my vision, a figure, in black, I fancied (or figmented) in top hat and tail-coat, with a cane, and , absurdly, although I was quite sure of it, a pair of very dark glasses.

He was with me during a perambulation around the Cathedral cloister, where I checked the details of the foliate head on the peg pox of my fiddle with that in the dark North West corner. Yes, indeed, it was exact in every detail, however so adapted for the purpose. I noted also, in the cold light of that winter day, the reddish brown bloody sheen that seemed to glow from deep within the ancient patina of the body; and there, unseen in the gloom of the shop, was a crudely incised Latin inscription. It said Factus sum in silva cum sanguine irrigata. Tacui in vita et in morte canam.

I recognised the last bit as being a variant of a common enough couplet found on many venerable old fiddles, it simply means when I grew in the wood I was silent, only in death do I sing, but the first bit was a puzzle. I indicated the inscription passing cleric who chanced to show an interest in my purchase, asking if might supply a translation, which he did, and it was simply this: when I grew in the wood, I was watered with blood.

I recognised those words too, at least something very similar, and, after purchasing a second-hand copy of The Collected Ghost Stories of M R James from the local branch of the SPCK, I sat down with tea and scones in one of Durham's more picturesque tea-rooms and read the story of The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral to clarify some points of detail. But even I here I got the distinct impression I was not alone, as did the waitress, who kept looking over into a dark but empty corner with some puzzlement: 'Eh, I could have sworn - but - must be my eyes playing tricks.' etc.

Suitably refreshed, and not a little enlightened, I took the violin back to the shop and insisted upon an explanation from the eccentric proprietor.

'Ah - thought you might be back, sir - though - maybe not so soon, sir, eh? Thought it might take a while, sir - usually does - thought it might even take several days, sir - for the penny to drop - as it were - as to the price and all for - that's a fine piece o' work that fiddle is and no mistake - no ordinary work either - you can see that much, sir - see it for yourself - and hear it too if you had a mind to play it - but - not in here, sir - if you would be so kind - which is why I keeps his strings slackened you see - so he won't play - which he does, sir, oh he plays alright - on certain nights - and days - days like this - high days, I call 'em, sir - high dark days in winter when he might play even if his strings are slacked off. Anyway, sir, suppose you'll be wanting the prarvernarnce on that, will you, sir? I have it just here, sir - I would have given it to earlier, sir - but - well I knew you'd be back, sir - sooner or later because - well - they always are, sir - but it's such a relief, sir, just to get it out the shop - even if only for a few hours. Now - where did I put that prarvernarnce?'

'No need for the provenance I'm sure,' said I, laying the case on the counter. ' - Just a refund, if I may?'

'And - perhaps a little more if you'd be so good not to mention it being as how a fiddle can get a bad name, sir and - I wouldn't like to be stuck with him - not all the time, sir, for - a man needs respite, sir - if only for a few hours - as I say - '

'Indeed. So - how came you by it?'

'Gentleman brought it in, sir, oh - twenty years since now, sir - said he'd found it in an old house he was working on - a house with a reputation for ghostly music - student house it was, sir - up Crossgate - near The Angel - number fifty-four as I remember it - said he found it walled up in one of the rooms - in an old fireplace - that it looked as if someone had been trying to burn it but - well I've tried that, sir - tried it myself - many the time - '

And here he paused, and placing his hand on the violin case, and with an expression of grave sadness, he said:

' - But it won't burn, sir, it just won't burn - the case neither. Oh I've tried - and many the time - even had in on stoves and bonfires - but it just won't burn, sir, it just won't burn - so - suppose I'm stuck with him, eh?'

'I should think you jolly well are,' said I, making haste to the door.

'Oh, sir - just one more thing - '

'Yes?'

'You won't be too alarmed by The Gentleman , sir - will you?'

'The Gentleman?'

'Yes, sir - I suspect you may have noticed him - tall fellah - very dark in his dress - but - I've reason to believe it's old Mr Havercroft who made the violin in the first place, sir. He'll follow you round a bit longer - at least until someone else buys the fiddle when - he'll follow them around instead but - he's quite harmless, sir, although - it's his face, sir - '

'His face?'

'Yes, sir - you see - it can affright, sir - at night - when you wake up and there he is - right there - staring at you out of the dark - supposing he can see because - he's got no eyes, sir - he lost 'em as a boy - according to the prarvernarnce - lost 'em in an accident felling the very tree from which he then made this very violin here. Years later. Made it blind so he did, which is all the more remarkable when you think of it. But - he means no harm by it, sir, I'm sure - at least - I've never heard of any harm - so - well - should you know of anyone else who you feel might take a fancy to it, sir - I'd be very grateful if you could spread the word - and - I suspect you will you too, sir, come the morning.'