Next day the news was known all over Beorminster; and Sidney's prophecy also. The Endicotte family would fain have kept it to themselves; but Sidney himself had spread the news. For on the way home and before the rumour could have reached Saxham,--which it did not until late that night--he told several people of Mrs. Marsh's death and the hour at which it had occurred. So the report spread, and that night Saxham, accustomed to Sidney's second sight, was in a ferment. Many believed, others doubted, and the upshot was that a few enquirers went over to Beorminster whence they rushed back with a confirmation of the news. Mrs. Marsh was dead, and moreover she had passed away at half past five. Up till a late hour that night nothing was talked about but this wonderful boy, and next morning a crowd collected about "The Grange" hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Ida was very angry at Sidney's indiscretion and told him so. He took it all placidly. "Why should I not say that Mrs. Marsh was dead?" he asked. "She _is_ dead; and she died at the time I said." "But how did you know, Sidney dear?" asked the perplexed sister. "When I was on the sofa in the library I dreamed that I was in her room, I saw her die, and the white spirit get out of her body. The spirit pointed to a bottle on the table beside the bed, and then I forgot all till I woke on the sofa and saw Stephen looking at me. Then I told him to go home. There is nothing strange about it Ida. You know I can see things." Ida shuddered and ran away to tell Bess that Sidney was a most uncomfortable person to talk to. The boy stayed indoors at the request of Bess all the morning, and then slipped off in the afternoon to go to his favourite haunt in the pine wood. When he came into the village the next day, he refused to talk of his dream or vision or whatever it might be called, and seemed quite cross when it was referred to. From that day Sidney was shunned as though he had the plague. Everyone was afraid of being told too much about themselves or their relations. This troubled the boy very little. He went on living in his usual dreamy way, and had no more visions for a time. Even at Biffstead he was regarded as something dangerous. But there by tacit consent the subject was dropped.