In passing the churchyard, he stood and looked well into it. But there was no sign of the ghost, and Isaac went on again. How little did he suspect that at that very selfsame moment the ghost was seated round in the church porch, in deep conversation with his sister! Having an errand in the village, he struck across to it; and on his final return home a little later, he was astonished to overtake his sister at the entrance gates of the Red Court Farm, her forehead pressed upon the ironwork, and she sobbing as if her heart would break. "Mary Anne! what is the matter? What brings you here?" "Come with me," she briefly said. "If I do not tell some one, I shall die." Walking swiftly to one of the benches on the lawn, she sat down on it, utterly indifferent to the rain that was beginning to fall. Isaac followed her wonderingly. Poor thing! the whole of the previous day and night she had really almost felt as if she should die--die from the weight of the fearful secret, and the want of some one to confide in. Richard was the only one who shared it, and she was debarred by pity from talking to him. There, with the fatal plateau in front of him, and the rain coming down on their devoted heads, Isaac Thornycroft learnt the whole--learnt to his dismay, his grief, his horror, that the victim had been his much-loved brother Cyril; and that Robert Hunter was still in life. He took his hat off, and wiped his brow; and then held his hat before his face, after the fashion of men going into church--held it for some minutes. Mary Anne in her own deep emotion did not notice his. "Isaac, don't you pity me?" "I pity us all." "And there will be the making it known to papa. He must be told." "Richard will leave Coastdown for ever. He could not remain in it, he says. I am not competent to advise him, Isaac. You must." "Richard has never yet taken any advice but his own." "Ah! but he is changed to-day. He has been changed a little since that dreadful night. I suppose you have known all along that it was Richard who--who did it?" "Not from information: I saw that you knew; that you were in his confidence. Of course I could not help being sure in my own mind that it must have been Richard. I fancy"--he turned and looked full at his sister--"that Miss Chester thought it was I." "Yes, I know she did," was the assured answer. "It was better to let her think so. Safer for Richard, better for you." "Why better for me?" "Because--it is not a moment to be reticent, Isaac--Anna Chester once appeared too much inclined to like you. That would never do, you know." He turned his head away; a soft remembrance parting his lips, a look of passionate love, meant for his absent wife, lighting his eyes. "You will get wet sitting here, Mary Anne." She arose, and they went indoors. Isaac was passing straight through to the less-used rooms when his sister stopped him.