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"Good morning, sir," said Legge; addressing Sylvester, whom he had quite forgotten.

"Good morning," returned Sylvester. "You were somewhat alarmed last night, were you not?"

"Well; it's true we were, rather. You have heard of it, of course?"

"I heard of it this morning."

"A mysterious piece of business, sir, that. I can't understand it!"

"Nor can I. It is indeed mysterious."

"He's the ghost for a thousand," whispered Obadiah.

"And a spy, too?" said Pokey.

"Both, my boy. I'll bet ten to one of it. Now, you'll just see how I'll pump him. You didn't see the ghost then, yourself, sir?" he added, addressing Sylvester; and then, turning to Pokey, with a wink of great significance.

"No," replied Sylvester. "I wish that I had. By the way, I have to thank you, Mr. Legge, for your attention to my aunt."

"Your aunt, sir?" said Legge. "Upon my word, sir, I haven't the pleasure of knowing you?"

My name is Sound."

"Oh! I beg your pardon, sir. I hope you're quite well, sir. Upon my word, I'd quite forgotten you. I knew I'd seen you somewhere, too! How is Mrs. Sound, this morning?"

"Not quite so well."

"I don't wonder at it. A thing of this sort must be very alarming to her. I know it gets over me! I can't make it out at all!"

"He's a government spy, is'nt he?" whispered Pokey to Obadiah.

"How do you know that he isn't?"

"And the ghost, too!"

"He may be! You can't tell he's not?"

"You saw this ghost, I believe?" said Sylvester.

"Oh! we all saw it!" returned Legge.

"Distinctly?"

"As distinctly as a thing of the kind could be seen!"

"And what shape did it assume? What did it look like?"

"Why the figure was that of a man: tall—very tall: it stood, I should say, seven feet high."

"Seven feet!" cried Pokey; "more nearer yards!"

"Imagination probably added to its height," observed Sylvester. "But how did it act?"

"Why, sir," replied Legge, "when it was first seen, it was walking up and down just before the cottage-gate; and, from the description, I imagined it might be smoking a cigar; for only one eye, it was said, could be seen, and that was an eye of fire."

"It was no cigar," said Pokey; "not a bit of it. It was an eye—safe!"

"Well," resumed Sylvester; "and did it continue to walk up and down?"

"For a time," replied Legge; "but it afterwards came here—to this very door—and knocked, and lifted up the latch; but somehow or other, I felt afraid at the time to let it in!"