"George's ghost, eh? And how could you see George's ghost when he isn't
dead? How long have you been here, and why did you come at all?"
"I have been thinking of him ever since you went out," she said, after
another long pause. "He has been in my mind all the time, and try as I
would I could not get his face out of my thoughts. I wondered whether
he were alive or dead, and at last I began to feel that he must be
dead, or he would have returned before this, or would at least have
written to me. To-night was so lovely that I came out partly to meet
you, and I came to this well, and stopped as I was rather tired. And
then I took off the ring he gave me, and--" She paused between each
sentence as if it hurt her to go on, but the mere fact of telling her
story seemed to do her good, and she continued. "And I thought that as
he had broken all his promises and cast me off on the very day fixed
for our wedding, I would cast off his ring; and at last I made up my
mind, and I threw it into the well. And presently I looked up, and
there, on the other side of the well was--" she hesitated again, and
clung closer to her father--"don't laugh, papa dear, it really was
George's ghost."
"I'm not laughing," her father said. "Tell me how he looked."
"He was wearing the same dress and the same grey cloak that he wore the
night he left me. He looked so sad, as if he had understood all that I
had been thinking. I tried to speak, but in a moment he was gone. And
then I screamed and turned to run away, but I suppose I fainted.--It
was not fancy, papa. It was George's ghost. I could see the stars
shining through him."
"Well, well!" her father said, shrugging his shoulders, but still
stroking her hair; "we will see whether you are of the same opinion
to-morrow morning. You see, your mind has been full of him all day, and
at last it has played you a trick, and you think you have seen with
your bodily eyes what could have existed only in your imagination.
Sitting all alone at twelve o'clock at night, in this eerie place, I
only wonder that you haven't seen half-a-dozen ghosts. When you are
indoors by a bright fire after a second supper, you will laugh yourself
at your fright. Do you think you can walk all right now, if I give you
an arm? Come, that's splendid! The sooner you are away from this weird
spot and out of this heavy dew, the better."
"Did you say you threw the ring into the well, Daphne," I asked, "or
only that you were going to do so?"
"I threw it in," she replied; "but never mind, let it stay there."
"Oh, but that's a pity," her father said. "You may be sorry afterwards,
and it will not be difficult to recover it. Have a try, Frank."
"Didn't you take it out of the water, again?" I asked.
"No."
"Then where is it? I am looking hard, but I can't see it."
We all peered into the fountain. There was plenty of light for the
purpose, and we could see the sandy bottom of the well quite clearly,
but the ring was nowhere visible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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