"Yes--I am aware of all that, sir. But--I believe it was as I fear. I don't pretend to account for it; to say what Stephen did or how he did it--but my fears are dreadful. I have no peace night or day." The Squire stared at her and shook his head. I am sure he thought her brain was touched. "My dear Mrs. Frank, this must be pure fancy. Stephen Radcliffe is a hard and griping man, not sticking at a trick or two where his pocket is concerned, but he wouldn't do such a thing as this. No, no; surly as he may be, he could not be guilty of murder." She took her arm off the stile, with a short shiver. David Skate came into sight; Tod's footsteps were heard brushing the grass. "Good-night, sir," she hurriedly said; and was over the stile before we could help her. III. When the rumours first began, I can't tell you. They must have had a beginning: but no one recollected when the beginning was. It was said that curious noises were heard in the neighbourhood of Sandstone Torr. One spoke of it, and another spoke of it, at intervals of perhaps a month apart, until people grew _accustomed_ to hearing of the strange sounds that went shrieking round the Torr on a windy night. Dovey, the blacksmith, going up to the Torr on some errand, declared he had heard them at mid-day: but he was not generally believed. The Torr was so remote from the ordinary routes of traffic, that the noises were not likely to be heard often, even allowing that there were noises to hear. Shut in by trees, and in a lonely spot, people had no occasion to pass it. The narrow lane, by which it was approached from Church Dykely, led to nowhere else; on other sides it was surrounded by fields. Stephen Radcliffe was asked about these noises; but he positively denied having heard any, except those caused by the wind. _That_ shrieked around the house as if so many witches were at work, he said, and it always had as long as he could remember. Which was true.