this, tells with
appalling force, rendering it next to impossible to keep silence. The
imparting it to some friend, the speaking of it, appears to be a matter
of dire necessity. It was so in this instance to Lionel Verner.

He was on his way to the vicarage. Jan had mentioned that Mr. Bourne
shared the knowledge--if knowledge it could be called; and he was one in
whom might be placed entire trust.

He walked onwards, like one in a fever dream, nodding mechanically in
answer to salutations; answering he knew not what, if words were spoken
to him. The vicarage joined the churchyard, and the vicar was standing
in the latter as Lionel came up, watching two men who were digging a
grave. He crossed over the mounds to shake hands with Lionel.

Lionel drew him into the vicarage garden, amidst the trees. It was shady
there; the outer world shut out from eye and ear.

"I cannot beat about the bush; I cannot dissemble," began Lionel, in
deep agitation. "Tell me your true opinion of this business, for the
love of Heaven! I have come down to ask it of you."

The vicar paused. "My dear friend, I feel almost afraid to give it to
you."

"I have been speaking with Jan. He thinks it may be Frederick
Massingbird--not dead, but alive."

"I fear it is," answered the clergyman. "Within the last half-hour I
have fully believed that it is."

Lionel leaned his back against a tree, his arms folded. Tolerably calm
outwardly; but he could not get the healthy blood back to his face. "Why
within the last half-hour more than before?" he asked. "Has anything
fresh happened?"

"Yes," said Mr. Bourne. "I went down to Hook's; the girl's not expected
to live the day through--but that you may have heard from Jan. In coming
away, your gamekeeper met me. He stopped, and began asking my advice in
a mysterious manner--whether, if a secret affecting his master had come
to his knowledge, he ought, or ought not, to impart it to his master. I
felt sure what the man was driving at--that it could be no other thing
than this ghost affair--and gave him a hint to speak out to me in
confidence; which he did."

"Well?" rejoined Lionel.

"He said," continued Mr. Bourne, lowering his voice, "that he passed a
man last night who, he was perfectly certain, was Frederick Massingbird.
'Not Frederick Massingbird's ghost, as foolish people were fancying,'
Broom added, 'but Massingbird himself.' He was in doubt whether or not
it was his duty to acquaint Mr. Verner;