This circumstance had quite prepared the minds of the simple people for his re-appearance; "he could not rest in his grave," and the excitement was intense. I was frightened myself--not at the "ghost," but at the turn things were taking. My companions were all on the spot, and quite as uneasy as myself, with the exception of one Dick Smith, who said that "if he could be certain that the `ghost' was old Howard's, he would fetch his gun and shoot at it. It could not be murder to shoot a fellow that was already dead." The proposition was negatived by every one present old enough to have a voice in the matter. The minister lectured Dick, and he slunk back into the crowd. Hours passed away, nobody was bold enough to enter the belfry, and the "ghost" stuck to its post on the roof of the chancel; however, the wind dropped about four o'clock, and consequently the tolling of the bell ceased, soon after which the "ghost," being tired of standing, lay down, and its _body_ being entirely hidden by the high stone coping was effectually concealed. It was said to have "vanished;" and the people retired to their homes, but many neither to bed nor to sleep. Just as daylight dawned next morning, John Durden, a carrier, on his way through the village to D--from an adjacent town, had to pass by the church with his donkey and cart. The "ghost," recognising the footfall of an ass and a brother, rose from his hard bed to salute him with a very long-winded _bray_. Seeing the apparition on the church at such a time, Durden took to his heels; his donkey, profiting by the absence of the carrier's cudgel, stood still, pricked up his ears, and returned the salute after his own familiar fashion. The villagers again crowded to the spot; all was discovered; daylight revealed the rope that connected the yew-tree with the bell-pull. The "ghost" had got his other ear at liberty, and his tail was wriggling, two hundred movements to the minute, with evident pleasure at beholding one of his race in the roadway below. With considerable labour he was lowered from his elevated position. And now commenced the more serious part of the business for myself and my fellow-conspirators. The sheet was marked at one corner in red silk, with the names of "J. and E. Smith." Now as there was only one family of that name in the village, and as they only had one son--the aforesaid Dick--the constable forthwith took him into custody on _more than_ suspicion of being concerned in the business of the preceding night. It was well known that he never could have raised the donkey to the roof of the church without assistance; therefore Master Dick was induced to give up the names of his wicked accomplices. Five of the number, including Dick, were apprehended. Myself and two others only escaped by flight. CHAPTER THREE.