ut hope an' expect to observe same to-night towards the hour o'
midnight or thereabouts and if so, shall immediately try what cold
steel can do agin it."

"Gracious goodness, Sergeant, what d'you mean?"

"I mean as I'm a-going to find out what it is as walks o' nights."

"But ghosts don't walk, they glide."

"Maybe so, mam, but this ghost or apparation ain't a glider 'tis a
walker, same being observed to leave footmarks. Also Roger Bent the
second gardener as lives nigh the old mill has seen it twice--says same
haunts the old mill o' moony nights, says--but there's Roger now, he
shall tell you!" The Sergeant whistled, beckoned and the second
gardener, a young-old, shock-headed man, approached, knuckling his
forehead to Mrs. Agatha.

"Roger," said the Sergeant, "tell us what ye saw last night."

"A gobling!" said Roger, "a grimly gobling an' that's what."

"Bless us!" exclaimed Mrs. Agatha, "what was it like?"

"Why," answered Rog er, ruffling his shock of hair with a claw-like
right hand, "'twere rayther like a phamtom, mam--very much so, that's
what!"

"O--where was it?"

"'Twas a-quaking i' the ruin o' the owd mill, mam, dithering and
dathering glowersome like."

Mrs. Agatha gasped, noting which, Roger shook his head gloomily.
"Always know'd th' owd mill was haunted but never seed nowt afore. I
do 'ope as my hens aren't witched from laying, that's what."

"And then you followed it, Roger?"

"Aye, I did so, Sergeant, me 'aving a dried hare's-foot 'ung round my
neck d'ye see which same do be a powerful charm, give me by old Betty
the witch, a spell as no gobling nor speckiter can abide."

"And where did it go?"

"Along by the spinney, Sergeant, then along the back lane and I see it
vanish it-self through th' orchard wall and that's what!"

"And there was its footmarks in the earth this morning, mam, sure
enough. All right, Roger."

Hereupon Roger knuckled again to Mrs. Agatha and betook himself back to
his duties.

"'Tis dreadful!" exclaimed Mrs. Agatha, clasping her pretty hands.

"'Tis queer, mam, queer--but 'twill be queerer if I don't find out all
about it 'twixt now and to-morrow morning."

"Sergeant Zebedee--Zebedee, don't!"

"Mam, I must."

"For--my sake."

"Mam, I--'tis become a matter o' dooty with me."

"Have you any charm to ward off evil, Sergeant?"

"Why no, mam."

"Then I'll give you one," and speaking, she took a ribbon from her
white neck, a blue ribbon whereon a sm