but it's an awful
thing to bring an innocent man to trouble."

"The innocent man _is_ in trouble!" I said, passionately. "Is it nothing
that he should die, if truth could save him? You may go back if you
like; but I shall go on. Tell me, whose place is this?"

"Never mind, my dear young lady," he said, soothingly. "Go on, and the
Lord be with you! But be careful. You're sure you see it now?"

"Certain," I said. "It is moving. Come on."

We went forward, and I heard a click behind me.

"What is that?" I said.

"Hush!" he whispered; "make no noise! It was my pistol. Go gently, my
dear young lady. It is a farmyard, and you may stumble."

"It has stopped over a building!" I whispered.

"Not the house!" he returned, hoarsely.

"I am going on," I said. "Here we are. What is it? Whose is it?"

He came close to me, and whispered solemnly--

"Miss Dorothy! be brave, and make no noise! We are in Farmer Parker's
yard; and this is a barn."

Then the terror came over me.

"Let us turn back," I said. "You are right. One may bear one's own
troubles, but not drag in other people. Take me home!"

But Robert would not take me home; and my courage came back, and I held
the lantern whilst he unfastened the door. Then the ghastly hand passed
into the barn, and we followed it.

"It has stopped in the far corner," I said. "There seems to be wood or
something."

"It's bundles of wood," he whispered. "I know the place. Sit down, and
tell me if it moves."

I sat down, and waited long and wearily, while he moved heavy bundles of
firewood, pausing now and then to ask, "Is it here still?" At last he
asked no more; and in a quarter of an hour he only spoke once: then it
was to say--

"This plank has been moved."

After a while he came away to look for a spade. He found one, and went
back again. At last a smothered sound made me spring up and rush to him;
but he met me, driving me back.

"I beg of you, dear Miss Dorothy, keep away. Have you a handkerchief
with you?"

I had one, and gave it to him. His hands were covered with earth. He had
only just gone back again when I gave a cry--

"Robert! _It has gone!_"

He came up to me, keeping one hand behind him.

"Miss Dorothy, if ever you were good and brave, hold out now!"

I beat my hands together--"It has gone! It has gone!"

"It has not gone!" he said. "Master Edmund's hand is in this
handkerchief. It has been buried under a plank of the flooring!"

I gasped, "Let