and went down house and hitched the gun off
the hooks over the mantelpiece, and ran out, just as I was, in nought
but my boots and my nightshirt. The hour was so still as the grave at
first, and the moon shone on the river far below and lit up the eaves
and windows; and then, through the silence, I heard Widecombe bells
ringing in the New Year. But the old night-bird in his top hat was gone.
Not a hair of his beard did he leave behind. I looked about, and then up
came the dog, barking like fury, not knowing who I was, dressed that
way, till he heard my voice. And that's the tale; and who be that
curious old rascal I'd much like to know."

They didn't answer at first, and the daylight gained on 'em. Then old
Parsons spoke up, and wagged his head and swore that 'twas no man his
master had seen, but a creature from the other world.

"I'll lay my life," he said, "'twas the spectrum of Miser Brimpson as
you saw walking; and I'll take oath by the New Year that 'twas his way
to show where his stuff be buried. For God's sake," he says, "if you
don't want to get into trouble with unknown creatures, go out and pull
up the cobblestones, and see if there's anything underneath 'em."

But Jonathan made as though the whole thing was nonsense, and wouldn't
let neither Thomas nor Hacker move a pebble. Only, the next day, he went
off to a very old chap called Samuel Windeatt, whose father had been a
boy at the time of the War Prison, and was said to have seen and known
Miser Brimpson in the flesh. And the old man declared that, in his
childish days, he'd heard of the miser, and that he certainly wore a
beaver hat and had a white beard a yard long. So Jonathan came home
again more thoughtful than afore, and finally--though he declared that
he was ashamed to do it--he let Tom overpersuade him; and two days after
the three men set to work where Drake had seen the spectrum.

They dug and they dug, this way and that; and Jonathan found nought, and
Parsons found nought; but Hacker came upon a box, and they dragged it
out of the earth, and underneath of it was another box like the first.
They was a pair of old rotten wood chests, by the look of them, made of
boards nailed together with rusty nails. No locks or keys they had; but
that was no matter, for they fell abroad at a touch, and inside of them
was a lot of plate--candlesticks, snuffers, tea-kettles, table silver,
and the like.

"Thunder!" cried out Jonathan. "'Tis all pewter trash, n