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lived all those years with him without finding that out!—it wasn't at all likely.

"If you won't go," said Quocks, who also knew Legge's weakness in this respect, "I will."

"Don't! Quocks!—Mr. Quocks!—don't!" cried Pokey. "For God's sake, don't do nothing of the sort.

"Why not?" demanded Quocks. "Hark! hark!" he added, as Sylvester again knocked. "I will go, and that's all about it."

"You shan't!" exclaimed Mrs. Legge, seizing his arm.

"What do you mean, woman?"

"Look at me—Mr. Quocks—pray consider my children."

Quocks had children of his own. He, therefore, resumed his seat in silence.

"Well, I'm blow'd if I won't go," cried Bobber.

"Mr. Bobber," said Mrs. Legge, "haven't you a sister depending upon you? If anything should happen to you what will become of her?"

Bobber poured out another glass of ale.

"Well, but this ought to be seen to," cried Pokey. "You remember what that young gentleman said? I'll open the door myself."

"I believe," said Mrs. Legge, "that you have an aged father. Do you wish him to come to the workhouse? Beware!"

Pokey knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and re-filled it.

"Don't you think that we'd better just ask who it is?" said Obadiah.

"You may open the door, if you like," said Mrs. Legge, who well knew that he dared do nothing of the sort.

"No," returned Obadiah, "not a bit of it! I shall not open the door. Why don't you open it? I've heard that ghosts won't touch virtuous women."

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Legge, angrily.

"Oh! I meant no offence. I merely said that I had heard that virtuous women were safe."

"Since it's come to that," cried Mrs. Legge, indignantly, "I'll open the door myself, if I die for it."

Obadiah now seized the poker, and Quocks spat in his hand, in order to grasp his stick firmly, while Pokey and Bobber turned up their cuffs and doubled their fists.

"Who's there?" demanded Mrs. Legge.

"'Tis I," replied Sylvester; "don't be alarmed."

The bolt was withdrawn; the latch was raised, and in walked Sylvester calmly.

The moment he entered, Pokey and Bobber resumed their seats, and and as Obadiah relinquished the poker, Quocks dropped his stick between his legs and felt better.

"I've been looking for this ghost," observed Sylvester, "but I can see nothing of it. Have you seen it to-night?"

"Not to-night, sir," replied Legge. "No, I haven't heard of it to-night."

"I should like to see it very much indeed. Am I too late to have a little brandy-and-water?"