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"There is certainly something white moving about," said Legge, who had been to the door.

"Is it a fact?" cried Obadiah.

"Come and see!" replied Legge, who returned to the door, and Obadiah rose and followed him, and Quocks, Bobber, and Pokey, rose and followed Obadiah; and, after straining their eyes for some time towards the cottage, they all indistinctly perceived something white.

"Now, will you believe me?" cried Pokey.

"It's strange," observed Legge; "it is certainly strange!—but we have yet to learn that that which we see is a ghost."

"What else can it be?" demanded Pokey.

"It isn't the old maid's white horse?" suggested Obadiah, pointedly.

"No: that's no horse," returned Legge. "Will any one come with me and see what it is?"

"Oh," said Quocks, "if we go at all, we had better go altogether. What do you say?"

Obadiah seemed very unwilling to go, but as all the rest consented, he felt, of course, ashamed to hold back. They, therefore, moved slowly towards the cottage; and as they moved, the figure became more and more distinct; but they had scarcely got more than half way, when Obadiah exclaimed, with a start, "Here it comes!—Don't you see?—It's coming towards us. There—there!" and having uttered these startling exclamations, was about to rush back; but Legge seized his arm on the instant, and stood to watch its movements with comparative calmness. When, however, he found that it was absolutely approaching, even he receded—gradually, it is true—but his retreat kept pace with the advance of the figure, upon which he still kept his eyes constantly fixed.

On reaching the door—to which Bobber, Quocks, and Pokey, had previously rushed—he stood for a moment to ascertain whether the figure really meant to come on, and on being sufficiently convinced that that was its intention, he darted in, closed the door, and locked it.

"Heaven save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Legge, who was then with the rest in the passage.

"Hark!" cried Legge, as footsteps approached; "hark—hark!"

The next moment, to their horror, they saw the latch rise. Their hearts sank within them. They were stricken with terror. There was not a man there who appeared to have sufficient strength to move. They could, in fact, scarcely breathe—while poor Mrs. Legge, who had fallen on her knees and covered her face with her apron, fainted.

Again the latch moved, and a knocking was heard; and Legge, unnecessarily, whispered, "Hu-s-s-sh!" seeing that they would not if they could, at that moment, have made the slightest noise for the world.

The footsteps receded—slowly, and apparently with some degree of irresolution-and then a slight cough was heard—a sort of clearance of the throat—which on their ears fell like a groan. But after that they heard no more: they listened still, and breathed again; yet, although they felt better, they continued very faint. They called for brandy, but