lden had gone he tried to talk sanely to the sick and
melancholy man, urging him to seek more cheerful surroundings. Alden
merely shook his head.

"See here," Garth exploded at last. "There's no point in your closing
your confidence to me. It only makes matters a thousand times more
difficult. You're afraid. Of what?"

The other answered with a difficulty that was not wholly physical. He
had hit upon this incomprehensible plan and he would carry it through.

"Then it's only fair to tell you," Garth said, "that the man who drove
me out talked a little. I've heard about your boat, of why your servants
ran, of the strange men with whom you've crowded the village. Tell me
one thing. Have you had threatening letters about your contracts?"

"Several."

The deep lines in Alden's face tightened.

"Don't think," he managed to get out, "that I'm a coward. I'll stay. My
contracts will be carried through."

"No," Garth answered, "you're not that kind of a coward, but there's
something else. Don't deny, Mr. Alden. You're more than sick. You're
afraid. What is it?"

Alden shuddered.

"A--a coward."

The words stumbled out of his mouth.

"But I don't know what it is. You're to tell me, Mr. Garth, if it's
anything."

"This rot about the woods and the spirits of dead soldiers?" Garth
asked.

Alden stirred. He nodded in the direction of the rear casement windows.

"Just across the lawn."

"You haven't seen?" Garth asked sharply.

"But," Alden said, "the servants--"

This, then, Garth decided, must be the source of the fear the other's
appearance recorded.

"Nonsense, Mr. Alden. That's one of the commonest superstitions the
world over, that soldiers come back to the battlefields where they have
died, and in time of war--"

"If there's nothing in it," Alden whispered, "why is it so common? Why
did my servants swear they had seen? And the fog! We've had too much
fog lately--every night for a week. My man died in the fog."

Garth whistled.

"Could they have mistaken him for you?"

"There were no marks on the body."

Alden looked up. His voice thickened.

"We are talking too much. I--I want you to stay and judge for yourself."

Garth arose and walked to the rear window, but he could see nothing for
the mist. He stood there, nevertheless, for some time, puzzled and half
angry. The mental and physical condition of his host, Mrs. Alden's
shattered nerves, the extreme loneliness, impressed on him a sense of
unch