‘Is that what they call the Marsh Ghost, Barnes? Oh! I must know all about it. I love ghost stories, and I have never been able to hear the whole of this one. Where does it appear, and when?’ ‘Lizzie here can tell you better than me, miss—she knows the story right through.’ ‘It’s a horrible tale, Miss Rosa. You’ll never forget it, once heard.’ ‘That’s just why I want to hear it; so, Lizzie, you must tell it me directly. Don’t move, Barnes, you don’t inconvenience me. I can sit up in this corner quite well.’ ‘Well, miss, if you _must_ hear it,’ began the blind girl, ‘it happened now nigh upon twenty years ago. Whisker’s grandfather, that used to keep the lodge at Rooklands, had grown so old and feeble the late lord pensioned him off and sent him home to his own people. He hadn’t no son in Corston then, miss, because they was both working in the south, but his daughter-in-law, his first son’s widdy, that had married Skewton the baker, she offered to take the old man in and do for him. Lord Worcester allowed him fifty pounds a-year for life, and Mrs Skewton wanted to take it all for his keep, but the old man was too sharp for that, and he only gave her ten shillings a-week and put by the rest, no one knew where nor for what. Well, miss, this went on for three or four years may be, and then poor Whisker had grown very feeble and was a deal of trouble, and his sons didn’t seem to be coming back, and the Skewtons had grown tired of him, so they neglected him shamefully. I shouldn’t like to tell you, miss, all that’s said of their beating the poor old man and starving him, and never giving him no comforts. At last he got quite silly and took to wandering about alone, and he used to go out on the marshes, high or low tide, without any sense of the danger, and everybody said he’d come to harm some day. And so he did, for one day they carried his body in from Corston Point quite dead, and all bruised with the rocks and stones. The Skewtons pretended as they knew nothing about how he’d come to his death, but they set up a cart just afterwards, and nothing has ever been heard of the old man’s store of money, though his sons came back and inquired and searched far and near for it. But about six months after—Larry! ’tisn’t a fit tale for Miss Rosa to listen to!’ ‘Nonsense, Lizzie! I wouldn’t have the ghost left out for anything. It’s just that I want to hear of.’ ‘Well, miss, as I said, six months after old Whisker’s death he began to walk again, and he’s walked ever since.’ ‘Where does he walk?’ ‘Round and round Corston Point every full moon, wringing his hands and asking for his money. They say it’s terrible to see him.’ ‘Have you ever seen him, Barnes?’