to cast towards the door which reminded him that
Verschoyle had left them so long. When he re-entered the room, Meredith
noticed that the sister's eyes turned anxiously towards him.

"I made sure about your bag by seeing after it myself, Meredith," he
began. "Remembered the mistakes Sally's brother is apt to make, you
know, Madge; and thought he might demand the post bag, or something of
that sort."

He appeared more desirous now of making conversation, reminding Meredith
of some of their Oxford experiences, inquiring about mutual friends, and
what not. But his gaiety did not sit quite naturally upon him, and there
was an under-current of excitement in his tone and manner. One there saw
that his gaiety was only on the surface, and that he eyed Meredith
closely and speculatively when he thought himself unobserved.

"Two thousand pounds! Two thousand!--and a quarter of that would save
me," he was thinking. Were the notes in that wallet of which he could
trace the outline in the breast pocket of the other's coat? His eyes
were turned again and again, as if fascinated, to that breast pocket,
while he talked on _apropos_ of anything that suggested itself.
Presently, in reply to some remark of his mother's with reference to the
rising moon, and the ghostly way in which its beams seemed to steal
about the ruin, he said: "Do you know that we can boast of having a
ghost, Meredith?"

"Our very own, who watches over the fortunes of the house," said his
sister. "At least, that is the tradition. When last heard of, he was
wandering about, with his hand uplifted as if in warning. Not very
original, is it? And not of much use, unless he will tell us what we are
being warned against."

"Have you seen him, Miss Verschoyle?"

"Oh, no. Even he seems to have deserted us now."

"Speak for yourself, Madge," said her brother, stealing a side glance
towards Meredith.

"Have you, then, Laurence?" she ejaculated, turning quickly towards him.
"I thought you were inclined to make a jest of the monk."

"I am inclined to do that no longer, perhaps."

"Do you mean that you _have_ seen him? You told me nothing about it,
Laurence."

"When I knew what a fright it gave you only to imagine you saw him?"

"But I was only ten years old then, you know. I was frightened, Mr.
Meredith," she said, turning to him with a smile. "But even then I was
quite as curious as frightened; for though I fell upon my knees and hid
my face, I begged him not to