But the fairies did not come back after the ferns were withered, only ugly warty toads, and they are not fairies. And the reason why the ferns withered in the dell was that a ghost had come to walk at midnight here. It was the ghost of a gamekeeper, and his story was a gruesome one. He was killed here, but the man who slew him was never found out, and that is why the ghost walks there. Some of the gamekeeper's blood, it is said, trickled into the stream, and that is how it has been brown ever since. Well, something happened on this very night. At one side of the tree-bridge was a rail, and it was pretty dark by the time Lotty had her hand on it. And she was pausing here for a moment to listen to the gurgling song of the brooklet, and also to hear if Chops was coming. Chops always whistled to keep his courage up when coming through this wood at night. But she could not hear him, nor did Wallace, else he would have barked a half-hysterical bark of joy. She was just about to move on, when, lo! she was startled by seeing a light like that of a candle moving straight upstream towards her. She certainly was a little trembling, but she could not have been called frightened. The light stopped not far off, and bobbed about and round and round, sometimes low to the ground as if the invisible thing that held it was looking for something that could not be found. Lotty tried to cry 'Who is there?' and was very much surprised that she could not say the words; all the sound, indeed, that she made was a little pitiful 'Hoo--hoo,' like what one hears from a dog when he is dreaming. Then the light went suddenly out, and now Lotty ran quickly on up the brae, and some distance from the top thereof she listened again, and now she distinctly heard Chops whistling the air '_Fra poco a me_,' and presently she met him. Chops listened wonderingly to her story of the strange light. 'An' it were nought else, Miss Lotty, but a dead-candle. An' more's seen't nor you on still nights like this. An' they do say that dead-candle will never be laid till the man as killed the keeper is found an' 'anged on 'igh on a gallows-tree. An' ain't ye glad I've come, Miss Lotty?' 'Oh, so glad, Chops!' 'Oh Miss Lotty, I wish they was more ghostes if they'd allers make ye glad to meet yours truly, Chops, his mark.' 'You're a funny boy; but let us get home now as soon as possible. Poor Mary will think I'm lost.' 'Take my 'and, Miss Lotty, won't ye? It's a honest one.' 'I know that, Chops; you've always been good to me, and I'm never going to forget you, Chops, never, never, _never_.' 'Miss Lotty, ye speaks queer-like to-night,' said Chops. 'Yes, I think it is because Crona and I have been talking such a lot, and it was nearly all about Mr. Blake.' 'Ye won't hever forget he, Lotty, I'll lay.' 'Oh no, Chops, and I felt somehow that I could have dropped and died--like--like a dead mouse or something'---- 'A dead rose-lintie, eh?' Chops suggested.