"I've found out things," he said, cunningly; "mawther 'ave tould me, I c'n vind out ef she's dead; ef she es, I c'n bring 'er back. Zay I shall, Maaster Jasper, 'n little Eli 'll do et." "No," I cried, with a shudder; "Naomi, who is as pure as the angels of God, shall never be influenced by the powers of darkness." At first I thought he was going to say some angry words, but he only fondled my hands and murmured loving words to me just as a mother murmurs to a tired or sick child. "Poor Maaster Jasper, dear Maaster Jasper," then he went to bed, leaving me alone. The landlady of the kiddleywink was a kind and motherly soul, and treated me with much sympathy, for she saw I was in trouble, and when I told her that I should not go to the bedroom with Eli, she prepared a bed for me on the window-seat, and left a candle burning for me. But I could not sleep; when all the inn was quiet I went out into the night, and wandered around the old Manor House like a man bereft of his senses, as indeed I was. I found my way into the churchyard, and roamed among the grave-stones, wondering all the time where Naomi's grave was, and why the death of one who possessed so much property was so little thought of. Perhaps I stayed here two hours, and all the time I grew more and more fearful. It seemed to me that the dead were arising from their graves and denouncing me for disturbing them, while all around me evil things crawled, and mocked me in my sorrow. I thought I saw men and women, long dead, haunting the graves in which other bodies lay, and I fancied I heard them pleading to God to hasten the resurrection day. These and many more phantoms appeared to me until, with a cry of anguish, I rushed back to the kiddleywink again. The night had become clear, and the moon, which was half full, caused the church-tower and the Manor House to appear very plainly, and as I lay on the window-seat I could see both. Toward morning I began to grow less fearful, although a great pain still gnawed at my heart. I remember, too, that I was making up my mind that when daylight came I would seek the priest to whom I had spoken, and ask him to show me Naomi's grave, when I heard a sobbing wail that seemed to come from a heart as broken and bleeding as my own. I started up and listened for some seconds, but all was silent. "Was I dreaming?" I asked myself, "or are the spirits of the dead come back?" Scarcely had the thought passed my mind when I heard another cry, more piteous, if possible, than the other. "Jasper, Jasper, my love, Jasper!" I heard. "Can you not deliver me?" The cry was very real, and it had no suggestion of the grave. It was the voice of some one living. "My God!" I cried; "it is Naomi!"