After repeated orders and accompanying shakings, Kyan produced a key. The minister snatched it from his trembling fingers, felt for the keyhole and threw the door open. The little room was almost as dark as the hall and quite as still. There was a distinct smell of old clothes and camphor. “A match,” demanded Ellery. “Quick!” “I ain't got none,” quavered Mr. Pepper. “They're all in the box in the settin' room. Oh, my godfreys mighty! What'll I do? What undertaker'll I have? Solon Tripp's the reg'lar one, but Laviny and he had a row and she said she'd come back and ha'nt me if I ever let him touch her rema--Where you goin'? DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!” The minister was going after a match, and said so. In a moment he returned with several. One of these he lit. The brimstone sputtered, burned blue and fragrant, then burst into a yellow flame. The little room was empty. John Ellery drew a breath of relief. Then he laughed. “Humph!” he exclaimed. “She's gone.” “GONE? Why, she ain't nuther! Where could she go?” “I don't know, but she has gone--somewhere. At any rate, she's not here.” Kyan rose to his feet. His alarm had changed to paralyzed astonishment. “How could she go?” he repeated. “That window won't open more'n six inches. Laviny ain't what you'd call fleshy, but she never could squeeze through that in this world. And I locked the door, 'cause I heard the click. I--I--I--do you b'lieve in spirits, Mr. Ellery?” “Nonsense! Come into the sitting room, light a lamp, and let's talk it over.” The lamp was found and lighted at last. Its radiance brightened the dingy sitting room. “Do you b'lieve in spirits?” repeated Kyan. “I've heard yarns about folks bein' spirited away, but I never took much stock in 'em. And,” he added with conviction, “'twould take a pretty husky spirit to handle Laviny if she had her mad up. She--Hush! hear that!” The sound of wheels was heard in the lane by the front gate. A vehicle stopped. Then some one called a hurried good night. Mr. Pepper's fear returned. “It's her!” he cried. “She's been ahuntin' for me. NOW I'll get it! You stand by me, Mr. Ellery. You got to. You said you would. But how on earth did she get--” The minister motioned him to silence. “I'll stand by you,” he whispered. “Don't speak. Leave it to me.” A step sounded on the back step. The dining-room door was hurriedly thrown open. “'Bishy,” called Miss Pepper eagerly. “'Bish, where are you?” “Here--here I be, Laviny,” faltered Kyan. His sister appeared on the threshold. She was dressed in her Sunday best, flowered poke bonnet, mitts, imitation India shawl, rustling black bombazine gown. She looked at Mr. Pepper then at the minister. “O Mr. Ellery!” she exclaimed, “be you here?” The Reverend John admitted his presence. Miss Pepper's demeanor surprised him. She did not seem angry; indeed, she acted embarrassed and confused, as if she, and not her brother, were the guilty party.