w how they have pluck to cut their
throats; if I was doing it, I'd like best to put a pistol to my head and
fire, like the young gentleman did, they say, in Deadman's Hollow. But the
fellows that cut their throats, they must be awful game lads, I'm thinkin',
for it's a long slice, you know.'

'Don't, don't, Milly dear. Suppose we come away,' I said, for the evening
was deepening rapidly into night.

'Hey and bury-me-wick, but here's the blood; don't you see a big black
cloud all spread over the floor hereabout, don't ye see?' Milly was
stooping over the spot, and tracing the outline of this, perhaps, imaginary
mapping, in the air with her finger.

'No, Milly, you could not see it: the floor is too dark, and it's all in
shadow. It must be fancy; and perhaps, after all, this is not the room.'

'Well--I think, I'm _sure_ it _is_. Stand--just look.'

'We'll come in the morning, and if you are right we can see it better then.
Come away,' I said, growing frightened.

And just as we stood up to depart, the white high-cauled cap and large
sallow features of old L'Amour peeped in at the door.

'Lawk! what brings you here?' cried Milly, nearly as much startled as I at
the intrusion.

'What brings _you_ here, miss?' whistled L'Amour through her gums.

'We're looking where Charke cut his throat,' replied Milly.

'Charke the devil!' said the old woman, with an odd mixture of scorn and
fury. ''Tisn't his room; and come ye out of it, please. Master won't like
when he hears how you keep pulling Miss Maud from one room to another, all
through the house, up and down.'

She was gabbling sternly enough, but dropped a low courtesy as I passed
her, and with a peaked and nodding stare round the room, the old woman
clapped the door sharply, and locked it.

'And who has been a talking about Charke--a pack o lies, I warrant. I
s'pose you want to frighten Miss Maud here' (another crippled courtesy)
'wi' ghosts and like nonsense.'

'You're out there: 'twas she told me; and much about it. Ghosts, indeed!
I don't vally them, not I; if I did, I know who'd frighten me,' and Milly
laughed.

The old woman stuffed the key in her pocket, and her wrinkled mouth pouted
and receded with a grim uneasiness.

'A harmless brat, and kind she is; but wild--wild--she will be wild.'

So whispered L'Amour in my ear, during the silence that followed, nodding
shakily toward Milly over the banister, and she courtesied again as we
departed, and shuffle