Every bridge and castle has the same story of some luckless sod buried in the pilings, having fallen in during construction or otherwise come to harm.
We prefer to believe that places are haunted. It’s better than the alternative, which is that when we die we are simply gone forever and before too much time has passed will be forgotten by everyone.
Even we masons are not immune, for though we build monuments of eternal stone we become disconnected from them in the long chain of time. Our names are never spoken, our stories never heard.
Better a ghost, then.