In the beginning, the allowance which his father had agreed to make him was paid regularly, and as regularly the son wrote home to tell where he was and what he was doing. Then gradually the payments were delayed, for the stepmother had always some good reason why the money could not be forthcoming at that particular date, and at length they ceased altogether. And when the payments ceased, the letters ceased also. For four years things remained in this state, but the stepmother was not idle. She intended in one way or another to work upon her husband till she had forced him to do as she wished, and this was to leave the estate to her own son, 'as it was quite certain,' she went on, 'that Alexander must be dead, or by this time they would have heard something about him.' At first her husband would not listen to her, and many and frequent were their quarrels; but, as we know, 'the dropping of water wears away a stone,' and in the end he showed signs of giving way. His wife noticed it, and redoubled her efforts. 'If Alexander were alive,' she declared, 'it was unpardonable of him to have treated his father in such a manner, and that fact alone would make him worthy of disinheritance; and if he were dead, then, of course, her boy was the proper heir to the estate.' Still, in spite of all her arguments, she could not entirely bend her husband to her will; and the utmost she could get from him was a promise that if he did not hear from his son in four years he would agree to her plan. For the moment the wife felt that no more could be gained, but soon she began her grumblings afresh, and worried him so perpetually that at last he consented to reduce the time of waiting from four years to one. This was not done very easily, and many angry words passed between them, till one day the wife burst out in a passion that she hoped his son's ghost would appear to him and tell his father that he was dead, and that justice ought to be done to his other children. 'And I,' cried the father, 'only wish his ghost would appear before the year is up, and tell us that he is alive.' * * * * * It happened not long after that they were sitting one summer evening in the parlour, disputing over the same subject--for nowadays they never talked about anything else--when suddenly the wife became silent and started up. 'Did you see that hand at the window?' she cried. 'There must be thieves in the garden!' 'Thieves!' he exclaimed, and rushed to the door, but he quickly returned, saying: 'You have made a mistake; there is nobody in the garden.' 'But there _must_ be,' she answered. 'It was a ghost, then,' he replied, 'for no one could have got over the walls without my seeing him.' 'I am certain,' persisted the wife, 'that I saw a man put up his hand to the window, and if it _was_ a ghost, it was the ghost of your son, who came to tell you that he is dead.'