SHIVERING BOY, THE

[Folklore] At Triermain Castle, in Northumberland, it is not so much a sight as a touch that is to be feared .... the touch of tiny, icy fingers, and a little boy's voice whispering, "Cold, cold, forever more." The boy, legend has it, lived in the fifteenth century, and had inherited the castle when his father died. The uncle who was made the boy's ward wanted the castle for himself, so he starved the boy until he was barely alive, then abandoned him on Thirwell Common in the midst of a winter storm. The boy perished in the snow. But he returned to the castle in death, and walks the halls, teeth chattering, a spectral six-year-old shivering with the cold. If he enters the room of someone asleep, he may simply stand whimpering by the bed ... or he may reach out and lay an ice-cold hand on the sleepers brow. To feel his touch, or see his sad little figure, is a portent of trouble to come.