see that," sighed Mr. Berners.

"I, then, with the help of this faithful Joe, will bring to you here
to-night such things as you and Mrs. Berners will actually need, for the
few days that you must remain. As to all your affairs at the Hall, I
counsel you to give me a written authority to act for you in your
absence. I have brought writing materials for the purpose; and when you
have written it, I will myself take it and drop it secretly into the
post-office at Blackville, so that it may reach me regularly through the
mail, and help to mislead everybody to whom I shall show it, into the
idea that you have gone away through Blackville. Will you write it now?"
inquired Captain Pendleton, drawing from his pocket a rolled
writing-case, containing all that was requisite for the work.

"A thousand thanks, Pendleton. I do not see how in the name of Heaven we
could have managed without you," replied Berners, as he took the case,
unrolled it on his knee, and proceeded to write the required "power of
attorney."

"And now," said the Captain, when he received the document, "now we must
be getting back. The sun is quite low, and we have much to do. Come,
Joe, are you ready?"

"Yes, Massa Capping; ready and waitin' on you too. I ought to be at the
mill now, 'fore the miller shuts it up."

Captain Pendleton then shook hands with Mr. Berners, and Joe pulled his
front lock of wool by way of a deferential adieu, and both left the spot
and disappeared in the thicket.

But it was not until the last sound of their retreating steps, crashing
through the dried bushes, had died away, that Lyon Berners turned and
went into the church.

As he entered, a singular phenomenon, almost enough to confirm the
reputation of the place as "haunted ground," met his view.

All in one instant his eyes took in these things: First, Sybil covered
over with the dark riding skirt, and still sleeping by the smouldering
fire; but sleeping uneasily, and muttering in her sleep. Secondly, the
four prints of the western windows laid in sunshine on the floor.
Thirdly, a _shadow_ that slipped swiftly athwart this sunshine, and
disappeared as if it had sunk into the floor on the right of the altar.
And in the same moment Sybil, with a half-suppressed shriek, started up,
and stared wildly around, exclaiming:

"Oh! what is this? Where am I? Who was she?" Lyon Berners hastened to
his wife, saying soothingly:

"Sybil, wake up, darling; you have been dreaming."

"