tty," he
called to his wife, "order dinner for twelve o'clock noon, sharp! I want
Alden and Laura, if they _must_ leave, to go with full stomachs: do you
hear?"

"Why of course, Jacky! Don't we always have dinner at twelve o'clock?"
laughingly inquired Aunt Kitty.

"Well, then, mind that to-day a'n't an exception to the rule. Now
where's that boy Taters?"

"Here I am, Marse John," said Mithridates, making his appearance with
an armful of wood, which he threw upon the fire; for the April morning
was chilly.

"Taters," said Uncle John, "you see to having the pony-chaise at the
door at half-past twelve precisely to take Mr. Alden and Miss Laura to
Blue Cliffs."

"Yes, Marse John."

"And, Taters, you saddle Brown Bill to ride and wait on them. You hear?"

Taters turned dark-gray and staggered to a chair and sat down.

"Why, what's the matter with the fool now?" demanded Uncle John.

"Oh, Marse John, don't send me to Blue Cliffs no more, sir--please
don't!"

"Why--why shouldn't I send you there, you idiot?"

"Oh, Marse John, I done see the sperrit of my young mist'ess there; and
if I see it ag'in I shall die--'deed I shall, sir!" exclaimed the
shuddering boy.

"What the mischief does he mean, Laura? You look as if you understood
him," inquired John Lytton.

Laura laughingly told the story of the supposed spirit, adding that it
must have been a pure hallucination on the part of the boy.

"Well, anyhow, I'll not send him with you if he's takin' to makin' a
fool of himself. It wouldn't do, you know," said John.

"And really, uncle, we need no one at all as an outrider," said Laura.

After an early and substantial dinner, Alden and Laura took leave of
their kind relatives and entered the pony-carriage, whose dashing little
grays, driven by old Jerome, were to take them to Blue Cliffs.

But we must precede them thither, to find out what it was that had
driven Mary Grey from the house in such very great haste.

CHAPTER VII.

A STARTLING EVENT.

What see you in these papers, that you lose
So much of your complexion? Look you how you change!
Your cheeks are paper!--why, what hear you there
That hath so cowarded and chased your blood
Out of appearance? --SHAKESPEARE.

It was on the evening of the very same day that saw the departure of
Laura Lytton for Lytton Lodge that Peter, the post-office messenger of
Blue Cliffs, returned from Wendover, bringing with him a w