“I believe every word of it,” said Letty, “is as true as gospel. The facts, as far as they are known, are as exact as if related by an eye-witness. Why should the rest not be equally exact? That Dr. Leroy should see in his dream Scammel and the Shalcrosses whom he does not know, is so extraordinary that it is to me a pledge of the truth. And did not the Gospel, at breakfast, say that whatever is hidden shall be revealed?” “The coincidence,” said Mr. Woodburn, “is certainly very curious—the dream is very curious; but would to God that it were anything but a dream!” “Father,” said George, “one thing is certain, it has put us on a track that we can quickly follow out. We can set on foot a careful, well arranged inquiry after these people mentioned. I have not seen Scammel or the Shalcrosses for a long time. If Scammel be the murderer, he has good reason to avoid the neighbourhood, and to keep the Shalcrosses away. A fellow more likely to do such an act I do not know: and another thing strikes me. Hopcraft, who used to be so famous for his cabbage and potato-garden, his fat pigs and his hens—look at him now; he has, almost ever since the date of Mr. Drury’s death, been going back in the world. He killed his pigs at Christmas, but has not bought any fresh ones, though young pigs are plentiful and cheap. His hens are gone, and his garden is a chaos. He seems to have no heart to work it. He has, as you know, been on the parish these six months, and his wife looks more like a scarecrow than a woman. I asked him how all this has come about one day lately, and he said he had no luck. That is true; he has no luck because his conscience, it is my firm conviction, is not at ease. But I will ride up to Sir Henry, and show him the letter, and if he thinks it warrants it, we will set about to sound these fellows.” George ordered his horse, and rode off; in less than an hour he and Sir Henry came riding back together. “Well,” said Sir Henry, “this is a very wonderful affair.” “You believe it then?” said Mr. Woodburn, who was evidently getting into a state of great excitement. “I believe every word of it, and so does Ann—by the by, she will be down here directly,” said Sir Henry. “My father would have been delighted with it. He had been so much in the East, that he had seen a great deal of the amazing powers of what are called magic, or the occult, which are exercised there by some of the most powerful chiefs. The last thing that he would believe was in their fixed notion of the evil eye; but one day, in Greece, riding a most valuable and favourite horse, he saw a man sitting by the roadside, noted and dreaded for the possession of this evil power. On coming opposite, and the man looking hard at his horse, it dropped suddenly as if shot, under him, and was stone dead. A wonderful coincidence, at least, my father used to say.