I'm going out in that
vacant lot and see myself what you're talking about."

"I can't go," gasped the woman.

With that Mrs. Townsend and all the others, except Adrianna, who
remained to tremble with the maid, sallied forth into the vacant lot.
They had to go out the area gate into the street to reach it. It was
nothing unusual in the way of vacant lots. One large poplar tree, the
relic of the old forest which had once flourished there, twinkled in
one corner; for the rest, it was overgrown with coarse weeds and a few
dusty flowers. The Townsends stood just inside the rude board fence
which divided the lot from the street and stared with wonder and
horror, for Cordelia had told the truth. They all saw what she had
described--the shadow of an exceedingly slim woman moving along the
ground with up-stretched arms, the shadows of strange, nondescript
garments flapping from a shadowy line, but when they looked up for the
substance of the shadows nothing was to be seen except the clear, blue
October air.

"My goodness!" gasped Mrs. Townsend. Her face assumed a strange
gathering of wrath in the midst of her terror. Suddenly she made a
determined move forward, although her husband strove to hold her back.

"You let me be," said she. She moved forward. Then she recoiled and
gave a loud shriek. "The wet sheet flapped in my face," she cried.
"Take me away, take me away!" Then she fainted. Between them they got
her back to the house. "It was awful," she moaned when she came to
herself, with the family all around her where she lay on the
dining-room floor. "Oh, David, what do you suppose it is?"

"Nothing at all," replied David Townsend stoutly. He was remarkable
for courage and staunch belief in actualities. He was now denying to
himself that he had seen anything unusual.

"Oh, there was," moaned his wife.

"I saw something," said George, in a sullen, boyish bass.

The maid sobbed convulsively and so did Adrianna for sympathy.

"We won't talk any about it," said David. "Here, Jane, you drink this
hot tea--it will do you good; and Cordelia, you hang out the clothes in
our own yard. George, you go and put up the line for her."

"The line is out there," said George, with a jerk of his shoulder.

"Are you afraid?"

"No, I ain't," replied the boy resentfully, and went out with a pale
face.

After that Cordelia hung the Townsend wash in the yard of their own
house, standing always with her back to the vac