beckoned me to the coffin side. Handling the poor corpse
as reverently as we could we found it very difficult to re-confine it to
its resting-place, for the muscles had turned so stiff and rigid that we
had to exert force, and seek heavy stones from outside to keep the lid
shut down securely.

This done, and the door fastened against the return of the fugitive, at
the old woman's command, though I felt sure in my own mind that the man
would never come back again of his own accord, Sandie and I took the
battered sconce and dying wick and went up to the bedroom above.

We sat upon the bed, smoked another pipe and conversed about the
soul-stirring incidents we had just been witnesses of.

'Do you remember,' asked Sandie, 'the mediaeval legend of the dead man's
wounds bleeding afresh in the presence of his murderer? I believe that
the spirit of the dead man down below us must have been moved by the
presence of his daughter's murderer.'

'To think of our having come across in such a mysterious and fortuitous
way the poor daughter--Jean!' I said, occupied by another aspect of
these extraordinary occurrences.

As we smoked and talked thus our dip went out, which was an intimation
that we had better try to sleep.

We slept but fitfully, and rose early to help prepare our breakfast.
Scarcely had we finished our repast when a neighbour arrived with a cart
and horse wherewith he had promised to 'lift' the corpse and convey it
over the rough track down the valley to the spot where the hearse from
Middleton was to meet it.

We found a rope and bound the coffin-lid lightly down, and having given
our promise to our hostess to recover, if we could, the body of her
daughter Jean and give it proper burial, we bade her good-bye for the
present and set off to the inn where the 'Dean' would be anxiously
expecting us.

We related our experiences to the 'Dean,' we got the Inspector to come
up, but failed entirely to discover the body in the Linn. For my part I
thought the thunderstorm might be accountable for the disappearance, but
Sandie had his own opinion on this matter. As to the criminal, some say
he escaped the country, but I firmly believe he perished in a peat-hag,
and to this day haunts the bleak spaces of Cross Fell.

THE COCK-CROW

A cloud hung over the bishopric--the ancient patrimony of Saint
Cuthbert.

Bishop van Mildert had died and, _sede vacante_, great changes were
impending, for Parliament was about to