"It was no harm took me, sir. I went to get a dish o' tea with Martha Broom. Many's the time she have asked me since Christmas; and my husband, he was out with the Dawsons and all that bother; and Luke, he's gone, and there was nothing to keep me at home. I changed my gownd and I went." "What time was that?" "'Twas the middle o' the afternoon, sir. The clock had gone three." "Did you stay tea there?" "In course, sir, I did. Broom, he was out, and she was at home by herself a-rinsing out some things. But she soon put 'em away, and we sat down and had our teas together. We was a-talking about--" "Never mind that," said Mr. Verner. "It was in coming home, I conclude, that you were met by young Broom." Mrs. Roy raised her apron again, and passed it over her face but not a word spoke she in answer. "What time did you leave Broom's cottage to return home?" "I can't be sure, sir, what time it was. Broom's haven't got no clock; they tells the time by the sun." "Was it dark?" "Oh, yes, it was dark, sir, except for the moon. That had been up a good bit, for I hadn't hurried myself." "And what did you see or hear, when you got near the Willow Pond?" The question sent Mrs. Roy into fresh tears; into fresh tremor. "I never saw nothing," she reiterated. "The last time I set eyes on Rachel Frost was at church on Sunday." "What is the matter with you?" cried Mr. Verner, with asperity. "Do you mean to deny that anything had occurred to put you in a state of agitation, when you were met by young Broom?" Mrs. Roy only moaned. "Did you hear people quarrelling?" he persisted. "I heard people quarrelling," she sobbed. "I did. But I never saw, no more than the dead, who it was." "Whose voices were they?" "How can I tell, sir? I wasn't near enough. There were two voices, a man's and a woman's; but I couldn't catch a single word, and it did not last long. I declare, if it were the last word I had to speak, that I heard no more of the quarrel than that, and I wasn't no nearer to it." She really did seem to speak the truth, in spite of her shrinking fear, which was evident to all. Mr. Verner inquired, with incredulity equally evident, whether that was sufficient to put her into the state of tremor spoken of by young Broom. Mrs. Roy hung her head. "I'm timid at quarrels, 'specially if it's at night," she faintly answered. "And was it just the hearing of that quarrel that made you sink down on your knees, and clasp hold of a tree?" continued Mr. Verner. Upon which Mrs. Roy let fall her head on her hands, and sobbed piteously. Robin Frost interrupted, sarcasm in his tone--"There's a tale going on, outside, that you saw a ghost, and it was that as frighted you," he said to her. "Perhaps, sir"--turning to Mr. Verner--"you'll ask her whose ghost it was."