?" said he, stretching himself.
"I didn't have much bed last night."

"Have you to go out again, Mr. Jan?"

"No. I shall look to the books a bit, and then turn in. Good night, Miss
Deborah; good-night, Miss Amilly."

"Good-night," they answered.

Amilly drew to the fire. The chilly rain of the afternoon had caused
them to have one lighted. She put her feet on the fender, feeling the
warmth comfortable. Deborah sent the supper-tray away, and then left the
room. Stealing out of the side door quietly, she tripped across the
narrow path of wet gravel, and entered the surgery. Jan had got an
account-book open on the counter, and was leaning over it, a pen in his
hand.

"Don't be frightened, Mr. Jan; it's only me," said Deborah, who did not
at all times confine herself to the rules of severe grammar. "I'll shut
the door, if you please, for I want to say a word to yourself alone."

"Is it more physic that you want?" asked Jan. "Has the pain in the side
come again?"

"It is not about pains or physic," she answered, drawing nearer to the
counter. "Mr. Jan"--dropping her voice to a confidential whisper--"would
you be so good as to tell me the truth of this story that is going
about?"

Jan paused. "What story?" he rejoined.

"This ghost story. They are saying, I understand, that--that--they are
saying something about Frederick Massingbird."

"Did Cheese supply you with the information?" cried Jan, imperturbable
as ever.

"He did. But I must beg you not to scold him for it--as he thought you
might do. It was I who drew the story from him. He said you cautioned
him not to speak of it to me or Amilly. I quite appreciate your motives,
Mr. Jan, and feel that it was very considerate of you. But now that I
have heard it, I want to know particulars from somebody more reliable
than Master Cheese."

"I told Lionel I'd say nothing to any soul in the parish," said Jan,
open and single-minded as though he had been made of glass. "But he'd
not mind my making you an exception--as you have heard it. You are
Sibylla's sister."

"_You_ don't believe in its being a ghost?"

Jan grinned. "I!" cried he. "No, I don't."

"Then what do you suppose it is that's frightening people? And why
should they be frightened?"

Jan sat himself down on the counter, and whirled his legs over to the
other side, clearing the gallipots; so that he faced Miss Deborah. Not
to waste time, he took the mortar before him. And there he was at his
ease; hi