ound. Five minutes' lying there,
with the weight of earth upon him, would have effectually destroyed
life; had any been left in him to destroy. There was no coffin, you must
remember."

"No?"

"Parties to the gold-fields don't carry a supply of coffins with them.
If death occurs _en route_, it has to be provided for in the simplest
and most practical form. At least, I can answer that such was the case
with regard to Fred Massingbird. He was buried in the clothes he wore
when he died."

Lionel was lost in abstraction.

"He died at early dawn, just as the sun burst out to illumine the
heavens, and at midday he was buried," continued Captain Cannonby. "I
saw him buried. I saw the earth shovelled in upon him; nay, I helped to
shovel it. I left him there; we all left him, covered over; at rest for
good in this world. Mr. Verner, dismiss this great fear; rely upon it
that he was, and is, dead."

"I wish I could rely upon it!" spoke Lionel. "The fear, I may say the
certainty, has been so unequivocally impressed upon my belief, that a
doubt must remain until it is explained who walks about, bearing his
outward appearance. He was a very remarkable-looking man, you know. The
black mark on his cheek alone would render him so."

"And that black mark is visible upon the cheek of the person who is seen
at night?"

"Conspicuously so. This ghost--as it is taken for--has nearly frightened
one or two lives away. It is very strange."

"Can it be anybody got up to personate Fred Massingbird?"

"Unless it be himself, that is the most feasible interpretation,"
observed Lionel. "But it does not alter the mystery. It is not only in
the face and the black mark that the likeness is discernible, but in
the figure also. In fact, in all points this man bears the greatest
resemblance to Frederick Massingbird--at least, if the eyes of those who
have seen him may be trusted. My own butler saw him last night; the man
passed close before him, turning his face to him in the moment of
passing. He says there can be no doubt that it is Frederick
Massingbird."

Captain Cannonby felt a little staggered. "If it should turn out to be
Frederick Massingbird, all I can say is that I shall never believe
anybody's dead again. It will be like an incident in a drama. I should
next expect my old father to come to life, who has lain these twelve
years past at Kensal Green Cemetery. Does Mrs. Verner know of this?"

"She does, unfortunately. She was told of