And for a long moment the figure stood still as if waiting for an answer. But my voice was shut dumbly within me. The Dominie stood up. ’Art thou the spirit of Mary Torrance, or a deceiving fiend of hell that has taken her shape? Answer me, or I fire!’ And the Dominie held out his pistol to the white-sheeted ghost, which even then appeared to me a mightily vain thing, for how can a spirit fear these things which are only deadly to flesh and bone? ’I have come to see Launcelot Kennedy,’ answered the voice, and it appeared awful and terrible to me beyond the power of words. I could not so much as fix my mind on a prayer, though I knew several well enough. ’I have come to seek Launce Kennedy. Is he within?’ said the voice. ’What would you with him? He is no concern of yours,’ said the Dominie. ’I ken that,’ said the voice. ’Nevertheless, I have come to seek him. I greet you well, Dominie Mure. Will you open and let Helen Kennedy within?’ And with that the light came clearer. The veil of the fantasies of that fearful night fell like a loosened bandage from my eyes. And lo! there at the tower’s foot was my dear quipsome lass, Nell Kennedy, in her own proper body, and I knew her for good, sound flesh and blood. Nor could I now tell how I had so deceived myself. But one thing I resolved—that I should not reveal my terror to her, for very certainly she would laugh at me! But the Dominie was too firmly fixed in his thought. I saw him grip his pistol and lean over the parapet. It seemed that he could not even believe the seeing of his eyes. ’Come not nearer,’ he cried in a wild voice, ’for well do I know that you are a fiend of the breed of the sea demons, whatsoever you may pretend. I will try a bullet of holy silver upon you.’ But I threw myself upon him and held his arm. ’It is but our own Nell Kennedy,’ I said. ’What frights you, Dominie?’ For I resolved to make a virtue of my courage. And, indeed, as I came to myself first, and had done no open foolishness, I thought I might as well take all the credit which was due to me. ’See you not that it is only Helen Kennedy of Culzean?’ I repeated, reasoning with him. ’And what seeks she with you?’ said he, still struggling in my grasp. ’I tell you it is a prodigy, and bodes us no good,’ he persisted. ’That I cannot tell,’ said I. ’I had thought her safe upon the moors with my mother. But I will go down and open the door to her.’ So when I had run down the stairs of the small keep and set the bolt wide, lo, there upon the step was Nell Kennedy, her face dimpled with smiles, albeit somewhat pale also with the morning light and the strangeness of her adventure. I held out my hand to her. Never had I been so moved with any meeting. ’Nell!’ I said, and could say no more.