forty pound would
rent a place like this without some drawbacks. Well, the drawbacks
is ghosts. Four of 'em, and all females."

"Tell us about 'em, sir," requested Mr. Jope, dropping into his seat.
"An' if Bill don't care to listen, he can fill up his time by takin'
the jug an' steppin' down to the cellar."

"Damned if I do," said Mr. Adams, stealing a glance over his shoulder
at the statues.

"It's a distressin' story," began Mr. Coyne with a very slight
flutter of the eyelids. "Maybe my daughter told you--an' if she
didn't, you may have found out for yourselves--as how this here house
is properly speakin' four houses--nothing in common but the roof, an'
the cellar, an' this room we're sittin' in. . . . Well, then, back
along there lived an old Rector here, with a man-servant called
Oliver. One day he rode up to Exeter, spent a week there, an'
brought home a wife. Footman Oliver was ready at the door to receive
'em, an' the pair went upstairs to a fine set o' rooms he'd made
ready in the sou'-west tower, an' there for a whole month they lived
together, as you might say, in wedded happiness.

"At th' end o' the month th' old Rector discovered he had business
takin' him to Bristol. He said his farewells very lovin'ly, promised
to come back as soon as he could, but warned the poor lady against
setting foot outside the doors. The gardens an' fields (he said)
swarmed with field-mice, an' he knew she had a terror of mice of all
sorts. So off he rode, an' by an' by came back by night with a
second young lady: and Oliver showed 'em up to the nor'-east tower
for the honeymoon.

"A week later my gentleman had a call to post down to Penzance.
He warned his second wife that it was a terrible year for adders an'
the ground swarmin' with 'em, for he knew she had a horror o' snakes.
Inside of a fortnight he brought home a third--"

"Bill," said Mr. Jope, sitting up sharply, "what noise was that?"

"I didn't hear it," answered Mr. Adams, who was turning up his
trousers uneasily. "Adders, maybe."

"Seemed to me it sounded from somewheres in the cellar. Maybe you
wouldn't mind steppin' down, seein' as you don't take no interest in
what Mr. Coyne's tellin'."

"I'm beginning to."

"The cellar's the worst place of all," said Mr. Coyne, blinking.
"It's there that the bodies were found."

"Bodies?"

"Bodies. Four of 'em. I was goin' to tell you how he brought home
another, havin' kept the third poor lady to her r