Far more unpleasant was the criminal whose spectre stalks the corridors of St. William's College in College Street behind York Minster. During the reign of Charles I, the college housed several wealthy clerics as well as more humble lodgers. Among the poorer residents were two brothers. The elder planned to rob one of the clergymen and persuaded his younger brother to help him.

One dark night the two brothers lay in wait in one of the narrow streets of the city. When a likely victim came within reach they pounced. In the scuffle which followed, the elder brother whipped out a dagger and stabbed the victim dead. The younger brother was horrified by the turn of events and fled back to their lodgings with the cleric's purse. Locking himself in a cupboard, the man seemed on the point of breakdown. Desperate that his brother would tell all, the elder brother decided to beat him to it. He contacted the authorities and betrayed his brother in return for a pardon.

The younger and relatively blameless brother was duly tried and hanged. The elder brother walked free from the law but not free from his conscience. He walked with the nagging and persistent demon of guilt on his shoulder. Sleep constantly eluded him so he spent his nights plodding the corridors of St. William's College. Night after night, week after week, the footsteps pounded the wooden floors as the man paced out his guilt. Then one night no footsteps were heard. The following morning the man was found dead in his room. A few weeks later the guilty footsteps were heard again and may still be heard to this day. Remorse has outlived death.

A rather sad spirit lingers in the upper rooms of No.5 College Street. Earlier this century a family with young children moved into the house and this seems to have triggered the haunting. Late in the evening the sound of a child crying was heard. Naturally, the parents thought one of their own offspring was calling and climbed the stairs only to find their children fast asleep. The children themselves also heard the crying and reported seeing a little girl trotting around the top floor. Soon the adults also saw the weeping girl who appeared to be about seven years old.

Deciding that they had, had enough, the family called in a medium. According to the medium the child told a pitiful story. Centuries earlier plague had swept through York and the house in College Street was just one sealed off from the outside world until the disease had run its course among the inhabitants. The plague carried off the adults in the family one by one but the young girl was untouched. Tragically, she was left all alone and slowly starved to death before the quarantine was lifted.