The unexpected appearance of a man who was supposed, and with every reason, to be dead and buried was so startling that for a few moments no one could speak. Had it been night time, those present might well have been excused had they taken the newcomer for a ghost. But a ghost would scarcely reveal itself in broad daylight, supported by two flesh and blood mortals. Amazing as it seemed, the wan person, who was placed in a convenient armchair by his guides, was actually the Rev. Simon Leigh. His head was bandaged; his face was bloodless, and he appeared to be listless and exhausted. Never was there such a dramatic entrance, or such an uncanny situation. "Leigh!" gasped Rupert, hardly able to pronounce the name. "Yes," replied the parson, faintly smiling. "I am alive, you see." "I said as he worn't dead," chuckled Ark again, and rubbed his horny hands with comfortable glee, while his grandson Tobias stood mute and grim behind the man who had returned from the other world. Carrington, equally startled, was the first to recover himself entirely. He saw in the reappearance of the clergyman a chance of escape from his dangerous position. "You accuse me of murdering Leigh, and Leigh is alive," he said, regaining swiftly his native impudence. "What do you say now, Hendle?" Rupert turned his eyes from the vicar to Tollart, whose big face was purple with astonishment. "What do you say, doctor?" he asked, feebly. "It's a dream," muttered Tollart, rubbing his eyes. "He must be dead. I examined the body; I saw him buried; I gave the certificate of death." "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Tollart," murmured Leigh with a weak attempt at a smile; "but you see I am still alive. Tobias!" The grim man knew what was asked for and producing a flask of generous proportions administered a stiff dose of brandy to his patient. The ardent spirit made Leigh cough, but brought the blood to his cheek and a more lively light into his dim eyes. Also when he opened his mouth he spoke with a stronger voice. "Yes, I am alive. I was buried by mistake." "It's impossible, I tell you," cried the doctor, still struggling with his astonishment. "You were as dead as a door-nail." "So you thought, Tollart, but you are not the first medical man who has mistaken catalepsy for death." "Catalepsy?" "I have been subject to it all my life, but I never told anyone about it--not even you, Tollart. Only Titus knew, and that was why he was what was called my shadow down in the village. I always dreaded being buried alive." "Yet you were," said Rupert, staring with all his might at the resuscitated man, and wondering if he was asleep or awake. "Titus wasn't much good, after all, in spite of his watchfulness." "And what could I do, Squoire?" demanded the ancient shrilly. "I said as Muster Leigh warn't dead agin and agin, but none heeded me."