"Nothing to be a-feared of, I reckon. The ghosts of them that has been baptized they won't harm nobody. I've heard Uncle Dyke Garrett say as much many's the time." The woman speaks with firm conviction. A moth brushes her cheek and she straightens suddenly. The moon is partly hidden behind a cloud; even so by its faint light you can see the clump of pawpaw bushes, and beyond--the outline of the rugged hills. Farther off in the burying ground atop the ridge the marble figure of the leader of the Hatfields rises against the half-darkened sky. At first you think it is the sound of the wind in the pines far off in the hollow, then as it moves toward the burying ground it changes to that of low moaning voices. You feel Molly's arm trembling against your own. "Listen!" she whispers fearfully, all her courage gone. "It's Devil Anse and his boys. Look yonder!"--she tugs at your sleeve--"See for yourself they're going down to the waters of baptism!" Following the direction of the woman's quick trembling hand you strain forward. At first there seems to be a low mist rolling over the burying ground and then suddenly, to your amazement, the mist or cloud dissolves itself into shafts or pillars of the height of the white figure of Devil Anse above the grave. They form in line and now one figure, the taller, moves ahead of all the rest. Six there were following the leader. You see distinctly as they move slowly through the crumbling tombstones, down the mountain side toward the creek. "Devil Anse and his boys," repeats the trembling Molly, "going down into the waters of baptism. They ever do of a foggy night in the falling weather. And look yonder! There's the ghost too of Uncle Dyke Garrett a-waiting at the water's edge. He's got the Good Book opened wide in his hand." Whether it is the giant trunk of a tree with perhaps a leafless branch extended, who can say? Or is nature playing a prank with your vision? But, surely, in the eerie moonlight there seems to appear the figure of a man with arm extended, book in hand, waiting to receive the seven phantom penitents moving slowly toward the water's edge. After that you don't lose much time in being on your way. And if anyone should ask you what of interest is to be seen along Main Island Creek, if you are prudent you'll answer, "The marble statue of Capt. Anderson Hatfield." And if you knew him in life you'll add, "And a fine likeness it is too." THE WINKING CORPSE