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 One morning it was told around through the village that a ghost had been seen. A woman in white had gone from the parish forest to the village, through the square, over the meadows and somewhere near the graveyard had mysteriously disappeared. The sexton’s wife fell sick of fright, for, she said, the ghost had rapped on her window, and when the sexton stepped to the window, not knowing who it was, he beheld a white specter surmounted by a skull and it made a wry face at him, while the figure shook its finger threateningly. It was a wonder Vlček himself did not become ill as a result, but the sexton’s wife would have it that death had given her warning that in a year and a day she must die.

The night watchman also took his oath that it was a ghost and that it came out of the parish wood. People began to dig up past history, if perhaps someone had not hanged himself there, but when they could not think up any such incident they said that once upon a time someone buried a treasure somewhere and that his spirit had no peace and was seeking someone to free it. All sorts of conjectures were made and the talk was only of the specter.

“I don’t believe it,” said Bára to Elška when she came to her that same evening to the meadow near the wood where Jacob was pasturing the herd.

“Whether it’s true or not, I’m grateful to the ghost, for it has rid me for several days of a much-disliked guest. To be sure, he wrote to uncle that they are