s, and
staring in at me too were two dogs, both poodles--also no living things,
but dead, horribly dead. Well, they stared at me, all three of them, for
perhaps a minute, certainly not less, and then vanished. That's why I'm
leaving, Mrs. B----. My heart was never overstrong. I always suffered
with palpitations, and if I saw those heads again, it would kill me."

After this my wife spoke to me seriously.

"Jack," she said, "are you sure there's nothing in it? I don't think
Mary would leave us without a good cause, and the description of what
she saw tallies exactly with the figure that frightened Jennie. Jennie
assures me she never said a word about it to the servants. They can't
both have imagined it."

I did not know what to say. My conscience pricked me. Without a doubt I
ought to have told my wife of my own experience in the lane, and have
consulted her before taking the house. Supposing she, or any of the
children, should die of fright, it would be my fault. I should never
forgive myself.

"You've something on your mind! What is it?" my wife demanded.

I hesitated a moment or two and then told her. The next quarter of an
hour was one I do not care to recollect, but when it was over, and she
had had her say, it was decided I should make enquiries and see if there
was any possible way of getting rid of the ghosts. With this end in
view, I drove to the town, and after several fruitless efforts was at
length introduced to a Mr. Marsden, clerk of one of the banks, who, in
reply to my questions, said:

"Well, Mr. B----, it's just this way. I do know something, only--in a
small place like this--one has to be so extra careful what one says.
Some years ago a Mr. Jeremiah Dance occupied the Crow's Nest. He came
here apparently a total stranger, and though often in the town, was only
seen in the company of one person--his landlord, Mr. Baldwin, with
whom--if local gossip is to be relied on--he appeared to be on terms of
the greatest familiarity. Indeed, they were seldom apart, walked about
the lanes arm-in-arm, visited each other's houses on alternate evenings,
called each other "Teddy" and "Leslie." This state of things continued
for nearly three years, and then people suddenly began to comment on the
fact that Mr. Dance had gone, or at least was no longer visible. An
errand-boy, returning back to town, late one evening, swore to being
passed on the way by a trap containing Mr. Baldwin and Mr. Dance, who
were speaking