The branch was cast over the edge, and fell at the back of the house. I left the leads, descended, and going out picked up the cedar branch, brought it into the hall, summoned the servants, and said derisively: "Here is an illustration of the way in which weak-minded women get scared. Now we will burn the burglar or ghost that we saw. It turns out to be nothing but this branch, blown up and down the leads by the wind." "But, Edward," said my wife, "there was not a breath stirring." "There must have been. Only where we were we were sheltered and did not observe it. Aloft, it blew across the roofs, and formed an eddy that caught the broken bough, lifted it, carried it first one way, then spun it round and carried it the reverse way. In fact, the wind between the two roofs assumed a spiral movement. I hope now you are all satisfied. I am." So the bough was burned, and our fears--I mean those of the females--were allayed. In the evening, after dinner, as I sat with my wife, she said to me: "Half a bottle would have been enough, Edward. Indeed, I think half a bottle would be too much; you should not give the girls a liking for sherry, it may lead to bad results. If it had been elderberry wine, that would have been different." "But there is no elderberry wine in the house," I objected. "Well, I hope no harm will come of it, but I greatly mistrust----" "Please, sir, it is there again." The parlourmaid, with a blanched face, was at the door. "Nonsense," said I, "we burnt it." "This comes of the sherry," observed my wife. "They will be seeing ghosts every night." "But, my dear, you saw it as well as myself!" I rose, my wife followed, and we went to the landing as before, and, sure enough, against the patch of moonlight cast through the window in the roof, was the arm again, and then a flutter of shadows, as if cast by garments. "It was not the bough," said my wife. "If this had been seen immediately after the sherry I should not have been surprised, but--as it is now it is most extraordinary." "I'll have this part of the house shut up," said I. Then I bade the maids once more spend the night in the kitchen, "and make yourselves lively on tea," I said--for I knew my wife would not allow another bottle of sherry to be given them. "To-morrow your beds shall be moved to the east wing." "Beg pardon," said the cook, "I speaks in the name of all. We don't think we can remain in the house, but must leave the situation." "That comes of the tea," said I to my wife. "Now," to the cook, "as you have had another fright, I will let you have a bottle of mulled port to-night." "Sir," said the cook, "if you can get rid of the ghost, we don't want to leave so good a master. We withdraw the notice." Next day I had all the servants' goods transferred to the east wing, and rooms were fitted up for them to sleep in. As their portion of the house was completely cut off from the west wing, the alarm of the domestics died away.