Robert appeared for the moment at a loss for a suitable response. He looked at her sourly, and from her to the dog. "You shouldn' take that there toy terrier across the fields, if you'm afeard o' cattle," he remarked. "'E's more mischeevous than wot they be. Get down out o' thicky 'edge, I tell 'ee. I'll see 'ee across." "Why didn't you say that in the beginning?" Peggy said, flashing a smile at him and slipping nimbly down from her position of doubtful security. "That's exactly what I was wishing you would do." "I seen a woman orched once," Robert was beginning conversationally, as they walked along together, when Peggy interrupted him to inquire what "orched" meant. "Why, bein' tossed, o' course," Robert answered, amazed at her ignorance. "She died, too--died o' fright, I reckon; 'er warn't 'urt much. It was a cow done it. But 'twas more by way o' play than temper. Females is easy scared." "Yes," Peggy agreed. "I allow that would scare me. You must be very brave, Mr Robert. I knew you were brave the moment I saw you." "Eh?" Robert ventured, a little doubtful as to her entire sincerity. He knew something about females and he had never known them other than deceitful. "Reckon I'm not more easy scared than most." Hannah would have laughed could she have heard that boast; he was--and she knew it--scared of her. "Are you afraid of ghosts?" Peggy asked. "Ghosts!" Robert's tone was scornful. "No, I ban't afeard o' they. Somethin' you can put your 'and through don't signify much. Wot I might be afeard of," he added, wishful not to appear bragging, "is somethin' bigger an' stronger than meself, wot can take holt to your whistle and squeeze it like the plumbers do the gas-pipes of a 'ouse. That might scare me, now." His manner conveyed a doubt whether even that experience could effectively arouse his fears. He left it to her imagination to picture him struggling valiantly, undismayed, against gigantic odds. "Folks say there's a ghost up at the 'All," he added. "I knew it!" the girl exclaimed. "I've a feeling in my bones, when I wake in the dark, that there must be a ghost somewhere." Robert nodded confirmation. "Hannah--that's my missis--she used to live 'ousemaid up at the 'All in old squire's time. She seen it. Leastways, she says she 'as," he added in the tone of a man who considers the reliability of the evidence open to question. "If she says so, of course she must have seen it," Peggy insisted. "Well," Robert answered, "I dunno. Seems to me if Hannah 'ad a seen it, er'd 'ave left; an' 'er didn' leave, not till I married 'er. But 'er was always tellin' up about thicky ole ghost, though 'er never could describe it. If I'd seen a ghost I'd know wot 'e looked like. Misty, 'er used to say--kind o' misty like, an' big. I've seed misty kind o' things meself when I've 'ad a drop; but Hannah's teetotal." Peggy eyed him contemplatively.