down as
utter nonsense, for within the past week there had been many wild
stories of ghosts among the colored people of Bermuda. The Negroes
of Bermuda are not unduly superstitious, and certainly they are more
intelligent, better educated than most of their race. But the little
islands, this past week, were echoing with whispered tales of
strange things seen at night. It had been mostly down at the lower
end of the comparatively inaccessible Somerset; but now here it was
in our own neighborhood.

"You've got the fever, Willie," Don laughed. "I say, who told you
you saw a man walking through rock?"

"Nobody told me. I seen him. It ain't far if you--"

"You think he's still there?"

"Maybe so. Mr. Don, he was standin' still, with his arms folded. I
ran, an'--"

"Let's go see if he's there," I suggested. "I'd like to have a look
at one of these ghosts."

* * * * *

But even as I lightly said it, a queer thrill of fear shot through
me. No one can contemplate an encounter with the supernatural
without a shudder.

"Right you are," Don exclaimed. "What's the use of theory? Can you
lead us to where you saw him, Willie?"

"Ye-es, of course."

The sixteen-year-old Willie was shaking again. "W-what's that for,
Mr. Don?"

Don had picked up a shotgun which was standing in a corner of the
room.

"Ain't no--no use of that, Mr. Don."

"We'll take it anyway, Willie. Ready, Bob?"

A step sounded behind us. "Where are you going?"

It was Jane Dorrance, Don's cousin. She stood in the doorway. Her
long, filmy white summer dress fell nearly to her ankles. Her black
hair was coiled on her head. In her bodice was a single red
poinsettia blossom. As she stood motionless, her small slight figure
framed against the dark background of the hall, she could have been
a painting of an English beauty save for the black hair suggesting
the tropics. Her blue-eyed gaze went from Don to me, and then to the
gun.

"Where are you going?"

"Willie saw a ghost." Don grinned. "They've come from Somerset,
Jane. I say, one of them seems to be right here."

"Where?"

"Willie saw it down by the Fort Beach."

"To-night?"

"Yes. Just now. So he says, though it's all rot, of course."

"Oh," said Jane, and she became silent.

* * * * *

She appeared to be barring our way. It seemed to me, too, that the
color had left her face, and I wondered vaguely why she was taking
it