n Jeff, fer he wuz at Belleview
wid you; an' it couldn't 'a' be'n Billy, fer he wuz too little ter wear
my clo's; an' it couldn't 'a' be'n Sally, fer she's a 'oman. It's a
myst'ry ter me, suh!"

"Have you no enemies? Is there any one in Wellington whom you imagine
would like to do you an injury?"

"Not a livin' soul dat I knows of, suh. I've be'n tu'ned out'n de
chu'ch, but I don' know who my enemy is dere, er ef it wuz all a
mistake, like dis yer jailin' is; but de Debbil is in dis somewhar, Mars
John,--an' I got my reasons fer sayin' so."

"What do you mean, Sandy?"

Sandy related his experience of the preceding evening: how he had seen
the apparition preceding him to the house, and how he had questioned Tom
upon the subject.

"There's some mystery here, Sandy," said Mr. Delamere reflectively.
"Have you told me all, now, upon your honor? I am trying to save your
life, Sandy, and I must be able to trust your word implicitly. You must
tell me every circumstance; a very little and seemingly unimportant bit
of evidence may sometimes determine the issue of a great lawsuit. There
is one thing especially, Sandy: where did you get the gold which was
found in your trunk?"

Sandy's face lit up with hopefulness.

"Why, Mars John, I kin 'splain dat part easy. Dat wuz money I had lent
out, an' I got back f'm--But no, suh, I promise' not ter tell."

"Circumstances absolve you from your promise, Sandy. Your life is of
more value to you than any other thing. If you will explain where you
got the gold, and the silk purse that contained it, which is said to be
Mrs. Ochiltree's, you will be back home before night."

Old Mr. Delamere's faculties, which had been waning somewhat in sympathy
with his health, were stirred to unusual acuteness by his servant's
danger. He was watching Sandy with all the awakened instincts of the
trial lawyer. He could see clearly enough that, in beginning to account
for the possession of the gold, Sandy had started off with his
explanation in all sincerity. At the mention of the silk purse, however,
his face had blanched to an ashen gray, and the words had frozen upon
his lips.

A less discerning observer might have taken these things as signs of
guilt, but not so Mr. Delamere.

"Well, Sandy," said his master encouragingly, "go on. You got the gold
from"--

Sandy remained silent. He had had a great shock, and had taken a great
resolution.

"Mars John," he asked dreamily, "you don' b'lieve dat