Things were indeed taking curious turns, and I wondered what would happen next. What motive, I asked, could Kaffar have in connecting me with the ghost, and what was the plot which was being concocted? There in the broad daylight the apparition seemed very unreal. The servants, alone in the hall at midnight, perhaps talking about the traditional ghost, could easily have frightened themselves into the belief that they had seen it. Or perhaps one of their fellow-servants sought to play them a trick, and ran away when they saw what they had done. I would sift a little deeper. I immediately retraced my steps to the house, where meeting Tom, I asked him to let me have Simon Slowden and a couple of dogs, as I wanted to shoot a few rabbits. This was easily arranged, and soon after Simon and I were together. Away on the open moors there was no fear of eavesdroppers; no one could hear what we said. "Simon," I said, after some time, "have you thought any more of the wonderful ghost that you saw last night?" Instantly his face turned pale, and he shuddered as if in fear. At any rate, the ghost was real to him. "Yer honour," he said, "I don't feel as if I can talk about her. I've played in 'Amlet, yer honour, along with Octavius Bumpus's travellin' theatre, and I can nail a made-up livin' ghost in a minnit; but this ghost didn't look made up. There was no blood, yer honour; she looked as if she 'ad bin waccinated forty times." "And were the movements of her legs and arms natural?" "No j'ints, Master Blake. She looked like a wooden figger without proper j'ints! Perhaps she 'ad a few wire pins in her 'natomy; but no j'ints proper." "So you believe in this ghost?" "Can't help it, yer honour." "Simon, I don't. There's some deep-laid scheme on foot somewhere; and I think I can guess who's working it." Simon started. "You don't think that 'ere waccinatin', sumnamblifyin' willain 'ev got the thing in 'and?" I didn't speak, but looked keenly at him. At first he did nothing but stare vacantly, but presently a look of intelligence flashed into his eyes. Then he gave a shrug, as if he was disgusted with himself, which was followed by an expression of grim determination. "Master Blake," he said solemnly, "it's that waccinatin' process as hev done it. Simon Slowden couldn't hev bin sich a nincompoop if he hadn't bin waccinated 'gainst whoopin' cough, measles, and small-pox. Yer honour," he continued, "after I wur waccinated I broke out in a kind of rash all over, and that 'ere rash must have robbed me of my senses; but I'm blowed--There, I can't say fairer nor that." "Why, what do you think?" "I daren't tell you, yer honour, for fear I'll make another mistake. I thowt, sur, as it would take a hangel with black wings to nick me like this 'ere, and now I've bin done by somebody; but it's the waccinatin', yer honour--it's the waccination. In the Proverbs of Job we read, 'fool and his money soon parted,' and so we can see 'ow true the teachin' is to-day."