e tree, he had little
doubt that the noise was produced by some branches moved by the wind, or
else the passage of air through its hollow trunk.

Jack slept too soundly during the night to hear the conversation of the
ghosts; but, on the following morning at his early breakfast, ere he and
his guide took their departure, the old woman assured him that they had
been talking as usual, making, if possible, even more uproar than she
had ever before heard.

"But what was it all about?" asked Jack; "could not you hear that?"

"No, no," she answered; "maybe they spoke in a tongue I cannot
understand, for, though often and often I've listened, not one word
could I ever make out!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

RESIDENCE IN THE FENS OF LINCOLNSHIRE.

The raw wind from the fens was driving the mist before it, and bending
masses of willows, bulrushes, and tall sedges all one way--and that way
right against the faces of Deane and his guide, when they commenced
their devious course across the marshes, within which Master Pearson's
farm was situated. A dead level was before them, broken here and there
only by a group of willows, or occasionally a few small trees which had
taken root on patches of firmer ground than that with which they were
surrounded, otherwise the horizon was as clear as that of the ocean.
The whole country had a raw, cold, damp, and agueish look about it. It
was any thing but tempting.

"Where is the farm?" asked Jack, as he pulled up for an instant to
survey the unpromising country before him.

"Some miles on," answered Burdale. "It's lucky you have a man with you
who knows the country, or you would have a bad job to get over it. If
you were to ride straight on now, you would be up to your horse's ears
in slush, with very little chance of ever getting out again alive.
Come, I'll show you the way; follow me. Don't turn either to the right
hand or to the left, or you will get into trouble!"

Saying this, Burdale spurred on his somewhat unwilling horse, who seemed
to understand the difficulties of the way before him. Here and there,
and scattered thickly on every side, were large patches of water,
sometimes expanding into the size of lakes, while others were mere pools
and puddles. Now a patch of reeds was to be seen. In some places soft
velvety grass, growing over, however, the most treacherous spots; now a
group of low willows, scarcely six feet high; now a bed of osiers,
barely three feet above the sur