the bailiffs wife, could tell something about it if she would. Certain
it was, that she had stood amid the crowd, cowering and trembling,
shrinking from observation as much as possible, and recoiling visibly if
addressed.

A word of this suspicion at last reached her husband. It angered him. He
was accustomed to keep his wife in due submission. She was a little
body, with a pinched face and a sharp red nose, given to weeping upon
every possible occasion, and as indulgently fond of her son Luke as she
was afraid of her husband. Since Luke's departure she had passed the
better part of her time in tears.

"Now," said Roy, going up to her with authority, and drawing her apart,
"what's this as is up with you?"

She looked round her, and shuddered.

"Oh, law!" cried she, with a moan. "Don't you begin to ask, Giles, or I
shall be fit to die."

"Do you know anything about this matter, or don't you?" cried he
savagely. "Did you see anything?"

"What should I be likely to see of it?" quaked Mrs. Roy.

"Did you see Rachel fall into the pond? Or see her a-nigh the pond?"

"No, I didn't," moaned Mrs. Roy. "I never set eyes on Rachel this
blessed night at all. I'd take a text o' scripture to it."

"Then what is the matter with you?" he demanded, giving her a slight
shake.

"Hush, Giles!" responded she, in a tone of unmistakable terror. "I saw a
ghost!"

"Saw a--what?" thundered Giles Roy.

"A ghost!" she repeated. "And it have made me shiver ever since."

Giles Roy knew that his wife was rather prone to flights of fancy. He
was in the habit of administering one sovereign remedy, which he
believed to be an infallible panacea for wives' ailments whenever it was
applied--a hearty good shaking. He gave her a slight instalment as he
turned away.

"Wait till I get ye home," said he significantly. "I'll drive the ghosts
out of ye!"

Mr. Verner had seated himself in his study, with a view of investigating
systematically the circumstances attending the affair, so far as they
were known. At present all seemed involved in a Babel of confusion, even
the open details.

"Those able to tell anything of it shall come before me, one by one," he
observed; "we may get at something then."

The only stranger present was Mr. Bitterworth, an old and intimate
friend of Mr. Verner. He was a man of good property, and resided a
little beyond Verner's Pride. Others--plenty of them--had been eager to
assist in what they called the investig