e hardly knew what to make of old
Matthew. The latter resumed.

"Had I been flurried or terrified by it, sir, so as to lose my presence
of mind, or if I was one of those timid folks that see signs in dreams,
or take every white post to be a ghost, that they come to on a dark
night, you might laugh at and disbelieve me. But I tell it to you, sir,
as you say, deliberately; just as it happened. I can't have much longer
time to live, sir; but I'd stake it all on the truth that it was the
spirit of Mr. Frederick Massingbird. When you have once known a man,
there are a hundred points by which you may recognise him, beyond
possibility of being mistaken. They have got a story in the place, sir,
to-day--as you may have heard--that my poor child's ghost appeared to
Dan Duff last night, and that the boy has been senseless ever since. It
has struck me, sir, that perhaps he also saw what I did."

Mr. Bourne paused. "Did you say anything of this to Mr. Verner?"

"Not I, sir. As I tell you, I felt like a guilty man in his presence,
one with something to hide. He married Mr. Fred's widow, pretty
creature, and it don't seem a nice thing to tell him. If it had been the
other gentleman's spirit, Mr. John's, I should have told him at once."

Mr. Bourne rose. To argue with old Matthew in his present frame of mind,
appeared to be about as useless a waste of time as to argue with Susan
Peckaby on the subject of the white donkey. He told him he would see him
again in a day or two, and took his departure.

But he did not dismiss the subject from his thoughts. No, he could not
do that. He was puzzled. Such a tale from one like old Matthew--calm,
pious, sensible, and verging on the grave, made more impression on Mr.
Bourne than all Deerham could have made. Had Deerham come to him with
the story, he would have flung it to the winds.

He began to think that some person, from evil design or love of
mischief, must be personating Frederick Massingbird. It was a natural
conclusion. And Matthew's surmise, that the same thing might have
alarmed Dan Duff, was perfectly probable. Mr. Bourne determined to
ascertain the latter fact, as soon as Dan should be in a state of
sufficient convalescence, bodily and mentally, to give an account. He
had already paid one visit to Mrs. Duff's--as that lady informed Lionel.

Two or three more visits he paid there during the day, but not until
night did he find Dan revived. In point of fact, the clergyman
penetrate