"She warn't no lady! She was an oppry singer, as was no better 'an she should be, and as had misled away my lordship's younger brother, who married of her, and died, and serve him right, de 'fernally fool! And den ebber since he died she done lib long o' my lordship at de castle. And her name is Mrs. Doogood, which is a 'fernally false, 'cause she nebber does no good! But my lordship, whenebber he's palabering ob his sof' nonsense to her, he call her, so he do, Fustunner! I s'pose 'cause, when she quarrel wid him, she make fuss 'nough to stun a miller." "And this woman you say was my daughter's enemy?" "Well, I reckon, marster, as you would call her sich, ef you heerd de plot she and my lordship and de shamwalley made up 'gin my ladyship." "Yes, but, Katie, you have not yet told us the plot," said Ishmael. "Well, I gwine do it now, right off, Marse Ishmael! Well, you see I kept on watchin' of 'em, till one day, it happened as a poor gal, one o' de housemaids, was found wid her t'roat cut unnerneaf of de castle wall--" At this announcement Judge Merlin started and looked at Ishmael, but the young man made a sign that the judge should say nothing that might interrupt the thread of Katie's narrative. Katie continued: "And de offercers ob de law tuk possession ob de castle to 'quire inter who was de murderers ob de poor gal. But de more dey 'quired inter it, de more dey couldn't find it out! And arter dey'd stayed dere a whole week 'quiring, dey was furder off from findin' out nor ebber. So dey all up and sent in a werdick as de gal was foun' wid her t'roat cut and nobody knowed who did it. Dat was de werdick. Which dey needn't o' stayed 'quiring and eaten' and drinkin' on us a whole week to tell us dat. 'Cause we knowed dat much afore. How-so- ebber, home 'dey all went and let de poor gal be buried. And I happened to be in de big hall and to cotch my eye on my lordship, as he said to his wally sham: '"Frisbie, I shall want you in my room presently; so don't be out o' de way.' "And I cotch my eye on Mr. Frisbie, too, and I see how he turned sort o' white round de gills, and he say: "'I'll be at hand, my lord.' "I says: "'And so will I be at hand, my lord.' "And sure 'nough, I goes and steals inter my lordship's dressing room, unbeknown to anybody, and I hides myself ahind one ob dem thick curtains! And presently sure 'nough my lordship he comes in and rings for Mr. Frisbie. Marse Ishmael, honey, would you mind givin' of your poor old Aunt Katie another tumbler o' rum? 'Deed I don't beliebe as I can go on wid de story widout somet'ing to s'port me." "So much rum is not good for you, Katie, but I will give you a glass of water," said Ishmael. "Oh, honey, no, don't, please! I don't like water in de winter time, it allers gibs me a cold in the stummick. But rum warms me."