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 they departed from the Crumpet and Crown their imaginations still teemed with ghosts.

Aunt Eleanor had ordered a fire in her chamber, and, as her resolution to sit up remained unshaken, she, at the usual hour, retired with her bible and prayer-book, and composed herself in a chair for the night.

Before, however, Judkins retired, he conceived an idea. It struck him just after he had eaten his supper. He imagined that if he, by means of a string, were to establish a direct communication between himself and the stable-door, he should, in the event of any one attempting to take Snorter out of the stable again, know it.

Acting at once upon this admirable conception, he got a ball of whipcord, and, having secured one end to the handle of the door, drew it carefully and tightly towards the window of his room, when, mounting a ladder, he put as much as he thought would be required through a hole, and on going to bed tied the end thus inserted to one of his toes, and went to sleep, in the full conviction that if a discovery were to be made, he should make it.

But neither he nor Aunt Eleanor were disturbed. She sat reading and praying throughout the night, but no spirit appeared. This had the direct effect of subduing her apprehensions. She had prayed in the full assurance that if the spirit which her reverend friend had seen were the spirit of her brother, it would appear before her then, and hence, as it did not appear, she not only felt sure that it was not her brother's spirit, but cherished again the sweet belief that his spirit was then in heaven.

When Judkins awoke in the morning, and took the whipcord off his toe, he was not exactly pleased with the fact of his not having been disturbed.

"Still," said he, "at all events nothing's been wrong. This is a capital go, this is. I'll try this here dodge every night. Safe to catch 'em by this here means: wonder I never thought on't before. Howsever," he added, "everything's right this morning—that's a blessing anyhow."

And he really did believe then that everything was right, and with this belief strongly impressed upon his mind, he left the room; but the moment he entered the garden he found that all was not right, for he perceived, at a glance, that about fifty exotics had been maliciously taken from the conservatory, and more than half buried in one of the onion beds.

"Why, blarm their bodies!" he exclaimed, as he tightly clenched his fists, and looked at the plants with great severity. "Couldn't they let even them alone? It's no use," he added, thrusting his hands into his pockets, "it ain't a mite o' use doing nothing. A man may work, and tile, and slave, and sweat, till there's nothing left on him. These here warment spiles all he does, and sets him to do it all over again. It ain't a bit o' good: I see that clear. I say, cook," he cried, "cook."

"Well, what do you want now?" demanded cook, who very seldom spoke sweetly.