"Ah," interpreted Mrs. Merry, "some one he killed, perhaps." "How dare you--how dare----? Nurse," she burst out, "I believe it _was_ my father lying dead there--I saw a white-gloved right hand." "Your pa, sure enough," said the woman grimly. "His wooden hand, eh? I know the hand. He struck me with it once. Struck me," she cried, rising and glaring, "with my own husband standing by. But Giles was never a man. So your pa was dead, wooden hand and all, in the Red Deeps? Did you go there to see, this day?" "No, no," Eva shuddered, "it was only a dream." "Part of one, you said." Miss Strode nodded. "After I saw the body and the white glove on the wooden hand glimmering in the twilight--for twilight it was in my dream--I seemed to sink into darkness, and to be back in my bed--yes, in my bed in the room across the passage." "Ah! you woke then?" said Mrs. Merry, disappointed. "No, I swear I was not awake. I was in my bed asleep, dreaming, for I heard footsteps--many footsteps come to the door--to the front door, then five knocks----" "Five," said the woman, surprised. "Five knocks. One hard and four soft. Then a voice came telling me to take in the body. I woke with a cry, and found it was just after nine o'clock." "Well, well," chuckled the old woman, "if Robert Strode is dead----" "You can't be sure of that," said Eva fiercely, and regretted telling this dismal woman her dream. "You saw the gloved hand--the wooden hand?" "Bah! It is only a dream." "Dreams come true. I've known 'em to come true," said Mrs. Merry, rising, "and to-morrow I go to the Red Deeps to see." "But my father comes home to-night." "No," said Mrs. Merry, with the mien of a sibyl, "he'll never come home agin to the house where he broke a woman's heart." And she went out laughing and muttering of the Red Deeps. CHAPTER II LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM