Another tremendous knock. The Squire put his good old nose round the window-post; two boys and a lady, passing by, halted a minute to look on. It was getting exciting, and I ran out. She was still at the door, which stood in the middle of the house, between the sitting-rooms on each side. "So you have got the key of the street, Matilda!" "I can't make it out," she said; "what Jane Cross can be about, or why the door should be closed at all. I left it on the latch." "Somebody has slipped in to make love to her. Your friend, the milkman, perhaps." Evidently Matilda did not like the allusion to the milkman. Catching a glimpse of her face by the street lamp, I saw it had turned white. The milkman was supposed to be paying court at No. 7, but to which of the two maids gossip did not decide. Mrs. Blair's Susan, who knew them well, said it was Matilda. "Why don't you try the back way?" I asked, after more waiting. "Because I know the outer door is locked, sir. Jane Cross locked it just now, and that's why I came out this front way. I can try it, however." She went round to the road that ran by the side of the house, and tried the door in the garden wall. It was fastened, as she had said. Seizing the bell-handle, she gave a loud peal--another, and another. "I say, it seems odd, though," I cried, beginning to find it so. "Do you think she can have gone out?" "I'm sure I don't know, sir. But--no; it's not likely, Master Johnny. I left her laying the cloth for our supper." "Was she in the house alone?" "We are always alone, sir; we don't have visitors. Anyway, none have been with us this evening." I looked at the upper windows of the house. No light was to be seen in any of them, no sign of Jane Cross. The lower windows were hidden from view by the wall, which was high. "I think she must have dropped asleep, Matilda, as you say. Suppose you come in through Mrs. Blair's and get over the wall?" I ran round to tell the news to our people. Matilda followed me slowly; I thought, reluctantly. Even in the dim twilight, as she stood at our gate in hesitation, I could see how white her face was. "What are you afraid of?" I asked her, going out again to where she stood. "I hardly know, Master Johnny. Jane Cross used to have fits. Perhaps she has been frightened into one now." "What should frighten her?" The girl looked round in a scared manner before replying. Just then I found my jacket-sleeve wet. Her trembling hands had shaken a little of the ale upon it. "If she--should have seen Mr. Edmund?" the girl brought out in a horrified whisper. "Seen Mr. Edmund! Mr. Edmund who?--Mr. Edmund Peahern? Why, you don't surely mean his ghost?" Her face was growing whiter. I stared at her in surprise.