Peter Fayerweather had no wish to see stately Penelope Royall or dark-visaged Captain Kidd on moonlit nights, or any other nights, or any ghost folks who did such odd things as to take off their heads and carry them under their arms. So, of all places, he begged Aunt Prudence not to take him to the solemn and lonely old oak house on the Mount. But Aunt Prudence did not fear ghosts. She “trusted in the Lord,” as she said, against any wandering visitors from another world. She was afraid of robbers, and it was on this account that she had secured the protective services of the giant Peter, who would have regarded a robber on any dark night as a most welcome friend. So the two came to the grand old house, Aunt Prudence fearing only robbers, and young Peter only ghosts. “If you will protect me from robbers,” said the solitary old lady to Peter, on the day of their arrival, “I will protect you from spirits. What do you say, Peter?” “Aunt Prudence,” said Peter, “I do not fear no mortal flesh, true as preachin’. Look there, and there.” He waved his great arms about like a windmill, and swung them round and round, greatly to the old lady’s admiration. “I have great confidence in you, Peter; I made a good choice when I took you, Peter. Do it again.” Peter swung his great arms again round and round like a wheel. Aunt Prudence’s sense of security became very firm. “That will do, Peter. If you should ever see a ghost, you call me; and if I should ever see a man, I will call you.” “Heaven forbid that I should ever see a ghost!” said Peter; “it would just kill me dead, true as preachin’.” The summer passed; the apples reddened in the shadowy orchards, and the frosts dropped the walnuts on the light beds of crimson leaves. The orioles went, and the ospreys. The beautiful Indian summer came and burned and faded. November, the month of shadows, came, and a coolness fell from the steel sky over the bay, and soon the light snow-crystals began to fall. No ghosts were seen in or about the old house; no robbers. Peter lost his fears, and Aunt Prudence became full of confidence, and the two were as happy as such a solitary life could make them. Aunt Prudence, at least, seemed perfectly happy and contented.