told 'em that they was a makin' fools o' themselves, and
that the cap'n's matters wa'n't none o' their bisness; and that was true
enough. As to goin' into Quassia's room, or into any o' the store-rooms
or closets she kep' the keys of, you might as well hev gone into a
lion's den. She kep' all her places locked up tight; and there was no
gettin' at nothin' in the Cap'n Brown house, else I believe some o' the
wimmen would 'a' sent a sarch-warrant."

"Well," said I, "what came of it? Didn't anybody ever find out?"

"Wal," said Sam, "it come to an end sort o', and didn't come to an
end. It was jest this 'ere way. You see, along in October, jest in the
cider-makin' time, Abel Flint he was took down with dysentery and died.
You 'member the Flint house: it stood on a little rise o' ground
jest lookin' over towards the Brown house. Wal, there was Aunt Sally
Dickerson and the Widder Bije Smith, they set up with the corpse. He was
laid out in the back chamber, you see, over the milk-room and kitchen;
but there was cold victuals and sich in the front chamber, where the
watchers sot. Wal, now, Aunt Sally she told me that between three and
four o'clock she heard wheels a rumblin', and she went to the winder,
and it was clear starlight; and she see a coach come up to the Cap'n
Brown house; and she see the cap'n come out bringin' a woman all wrapped
in a cloak, and old Quassy came arter with her arms full o' bundles; and
he put her into the kerridge, and shet her in, and it driv off; and she
see old Quassy stand lookin' over the fence arter it. She tried to wake
up the widder, but 'twas towards mornin', and the widder allers was a
hard sleeper; so there wa'n't no witness but her.'

"Well, then, it wasn't a ghost," said I, "after all, and it _was_ a
woman."

"Wal, there 'tis, you see. Folks don't know that 'are yit, 'cause there
it's jest as broad as 'tis long. Now, look at it. There's Cinthy, she's
a good, pious gal: she locks her chamber-doors, both on 'em, and goes
to bed, and wakes up in the night, and there's a woman there. She jest
shets her eyes, and the woman's gone. She gits up and looks, and both
doors is locked jest as she left 'em. That 'ere woman wa'n't flesh and
blood now, no way,--not such flesh and blood as we knows on; but then
they say Cinthy might hev dreamed it!

"Wal, now, look at it t'other way. There's Aunt Sally Dickerson; she's
a good woman and a church-member: wal, she sees a woman in a cloak
with all her