"At any rate, he is out of it," observed John Massingbird.

"Ay," she replied, in a sort of self-soliloquy, as she turned to leave
the room, for Mr. Verner told her she was dismissed, "it'll be a corn o'
comfort amid my peck o' troubles. I have fretted myself incessant since
Luke left, a-thinking as I could never know comfort again; but perhaps
it's all for the best now, as he should ha' went."

She curtsied, and the door was closed upon her. Her evidence left an
unsatisfactory feeling behind it.

An impression had gone forth that Mrs. Roy could throw some light upon
the obscurity; and, as it turned out, she had thrown none. The greater
part of those present gave credence to what she said. All believed the
"ghost" to have been pure imagination; knowing the woman's proneness to
the marvellous, and her timid temperament. But, upon one or two there
remained a strong conviction that Mrs. Roy had not told the whole truth;
that she could have said a great deal more about the night's work, had
she chosen to do so.

No other testimony was forthcoming. The cries and shouts of young Broom,
when he saw the body in the water, had succeeded in arousing some men
who slept at the distant brick-kilns; and the tidings soon spread, and
crowds flocked up. These people were eager to pour into Mr. Verner's
room now, and state all _they_ knew, which was precisely the evidence
not required; but of further testimony to the facts there was none.

"More may come out prior to the inquest; there's no knowing," observed
Mr. Bitterworth, as the gentlemen stood in a group, before separating.
"It is a very dreadful thing, demanding the most searching
investigation. It is not likely she would throw herself in."

"A well-conducted girl like Rachel Frost throw herself wilfully into a
pond to be drowned!" indignantly repeated Mr. Verner. "She would be one
of the last to do it."

"And equally one of the last to be thrown in," said Dr. West. "Young
women are not thrown into ponds without some cause; and I should think
few ever gave less cause for maltreatment of any kind than she. It
appears most strange to me with whom she could have been quarrelling--if
indeed it was Rachel that was quarrelling."

"It is all strange together," cried Lionel Verner. "What took Rachel
that way at all, by night time?"

"What indeed!" echoed Mr. Bitterworth. "Unless--"

"Unless what?" asked Mr. Verner; for Mr. Bitterworth had brought his
words to a sudden standstil