"Strange people are buried here," the torch-bearer said, speaking softly to his panting companions, while they rested from their hard work. "Suicides, and those who have died violent deaths; Hedgepath is devoted to them. I've heard it said that this is a rough neighborhood, but the best of their dead are put away further up the hill. If the flood has not drowned out the ghosts, we will see one to-night." The suggestion of ghosts was not a pleasant one to the rowers, particularly to those who were farthest from the torch, for they looked timidly about as though they were likely to be approached from behind by spirits riding on headstones. "There is a road running along the edge of Hedgepath, leading from the ferry into the hills," the torch-bearer said, who was the bravest of the lot, because he was directly under the light, "and those who have travelled it at night say that the inhabitants of this place sit on stumps beside the road and want to argue with the passers-by. One fellow who was hanged,--_he_ has a great deal to say about the perjured witnesses; and another who was accused of poisoning himself,--he says he found it in his coffee, though he does not tell who put it there; and so many others have horrible stories to tell that travellers usually hurry by this place as fast as they can." It was not a cheerful subject, but his companions listened with close attention, occasionally casting glances behind them. "The unknown people who are found floating in the river; _they_ are buried here, and those who travel the Hedgepath road at night say these offer them letters, and ask that they be posted. I have forgotten who it was, but somebody told me that he received one of these letters in his own hand, and mailed it, and that soon after one of the bodies was taken up by friends from a distance, and carried away." The grim joker was interrupted by a hail from the other boat, and the men dipped their oars into the water, and pulled toward it. Thompson Benton and those who were with him were looking with eager eyes at a boat which was floating a short distance beyond them, within the rays of their torch, and which was rising and falling with the ripples, with both oars hanging helplessly out in the water. The men were waiting in fear for their companions to come up to keep them company before approaching it, and when the two boats were side by side, they were held together, and the outside oars of each were used to row toward the deserted craft, as a party of men who discover a suspicious object in a strange locality might move toward it together. As they drew nearer, the form of a prostrate man was seen seen-- Dismiss thy husband into the shadows from whence he came, O pretty wife, for he is murdered.