"We have always been afraid of seeing something, she and me, since last May; we haven't liked the house at night-time. It has often been quite a scuffle which of us should fetch the beer, so as not to be the one left alone. Many a time I have stood right out at the back door while Jane Cross has gone for it." I began to think her an idiot. If Jane Cross was another, why, perhaps she had frightened herself into a fit. All the more reason that somebody should see after her. "Come along, Matilda; don't be foolish; we'll both get over the wall." It was a calm, still summer evening, almost dark now. All the lot of us went out to the back garden, I whispering to them what the girl had said to me. "Poor thing!" said Mrs. Todhetley, who had a sort of fellow-feeling for ghosts. "It has been very lonely for the young women; and if Jane Cross is subject to fits, she may be lying in one at this moment." The wall between the gardens was nothing like as high as the outer one. Susan brought out a chair, and Matilda could have got over easily. But when she reached the top, she stuck there. "I can't go on by myself; I dare not," she said, turning her frightened face towards us. "If Mr. Edmund is there----" "Don't be a goose, girl!" interrupted the Squire, in doubt whether to laugh or scold. "Here, I'll go with you. Get on down. Hold the chair tight for me, Johnny." We hoisted him over without damage. I leaped after him, and Susan, grinning with delight, came after me. She supposed that Jane Cross had slipped out somewhere during Matilda's absence. The door faced the garden, and the Squire and Susan were the first to enter. There seemed to be no light anywhere, and the Squire went gingerly picking his way. I turned round to look for Matilda, who had hung back, and found her with her hand on the trellis-work of the porch, and the beer splashing over in her fear. "I say, look here, Matilda; you must be a regular goose, as the Squire says, to put yourself into this fright before you know whether there's any cause for it. Susan says she has only stepped out somewhere." She put up her hand and touched my arm, her lips the colour of chalk. "Only last night that ever was, Mr. Johnny, as we were going up the staircase to bed, we heard a sound in the room as we passed it. It was just like a groan. Ask Jane Cross, else, sir." "What room?" "Mr. Edmund's; where he did it. She has heard him to-night, or seen him, or something, and has fallen into a fit." The kitchen was on the right of the passage. Susan, knowing the ways of the house, soon lighted a candle. On a small round table was spread a white cloth, some bread and cheese, and two tumblers. A knife or two had seemingly been flung on it at random. "Jane Cross! Jane Cross!" shouted the Squire, going forward towards the front hall, Susan following with the candle. It was a good-sized hall; I could see that, with a handsome well-staircase at this end of it.