The adulteress

"Well, that's what ghosts do, sir."

"It's a bad sign," said Daisy Button. "It's death in the house. I felt it a long time. I reckon it's his lordship. His spirit is already gone ... and in its early form as yet ... outside looking on. That's how it goes. Mark my words, we shan't have the dear gentleman with us much longer."

"Stop that nonsense," said Dr. Cabel. "What May saw was one of the servants ... or she imagined she saw something. You're all right, May. Now I'm going to give you something to drink and you're to go to bed."

"I'd be frightened, sir. I don't want to see that again."

"You saw nothing. It was a figment of your imagination." He bent over. "Good heavens, have you been drinking?"

"I give her a glass of my sloe gin," said Daisy Button. "But then we all had some."

"It may well be that your sloe gin is more potent than you think, Mistress Button."

"Well, you might have something there."

The doctor smiled. "Distribute it in smaller portions in future, will you?"

"Well, my sloe's always been took in the same quantities before, sir."

"Each year's brew won't be exactly the same, will it?"

"That could be true, sir. You know what sloes is."

"Shall we get May to her room and let the doctor give her something to make her sleep," I said.

"Come along, May," said Jessie.

They went up to the maid's room.

I noticed how subdued Jessie was. She was really frightened and behaving rather unlike the Jessie I had come to expect.

Dickon was very interested when he heard of May's experience. He was on some sort of acquaintanceship with several of the maids. I had seen his eyes rest speculatively on several of them. I imagined that he waylaid them in dark places and indulged in certain familiarities. I had seen the manner in which some of them looked at him. Dickon was the sort of person who only had to be in a place to change the nature of it.

He held forth a long time at dinner over May's adventure.

"These girls are very superstitious," he said. "I've no doubt May imagined the whole thing."

"Yes," said Jessie, "that's it. She just saw a shadow or something ... and thought up the rest."

"She was very shaken," I pointed out.

"Of course she would be," said Dickon. "What did the poor girl see? I beg your pardon ... what did she think she saw?"

"Some garbled story about a man in a cloak," said Dr. Cabel.

"And a hat."

"Evidently a visitor since he was hatted," said Dickon.

"She said he was like Lord Eversleigh," I said.

"Probably she saw him in a hat and cloak once," put in the doctor.

"The cook adds fuel to the flames," I remarked. "She says that the apparition was a sort of angel of death."

"Interesting," said Dickon. "Come to announce some disaster?"

"Daisy Button is full of tales—always has been," said Jessie. "Thinks she's rather clever, she does. If she wasn't such a good cook ..."

"Good cooks should be allowed their little foibles," remarked Dickon. "Do tell me more of this angel of death."

"She seems to imply," I explained, "that it's the spirit of someone who has departed taking on the guise of his earthly body."

"It's very complicated," sighed Dickon. "I didn't know that cook added supernatural knowledge to her culinary skills."

The doctor said rather impatiently: "It's all a lot of women's nonsense. I think we'd do well to forget it."

"You are certainly right, doctor," agreed Dickon. "But is it not strange how interested we all are in unnatural phenomena, even those of us who should know better."

"The girl has come to her senses. I gave her a draught and a good night's sleep will do the rest. Now I hope we shall have no more of this nonsense."

His hope was not fulfilled for that very night the ghost made another appearance.

This time it was to Jessie herself.

There was a wild scream and we all ran to see what had happened. Jessie was half fainting when I arrived on the scene. I had been outside for a breath of fresh air before retiring, for I had just had one of my brief visits to Uncle Carl.

Jessie was lying on the floor. She had fainted. With all the blood drained from her face so that the carmine stood out unnaturally she looked like a painted doll.

Dr. Cabel was kneeling beside her. "Give her air," he was crying, for several of the servants were crowding round.

"What has happened?" I asked.

"Mistress Stirling has fainted," the doctor announced. "She'll be all right. It's nothing much. The heat, I expect."

It was not really very hot. It never was in the house behind those thick stone walls even at the height of summer.

Jessie was already opening her eyes. She screamed: "Where is he? I saw him."

"All is well," said Dr. Cabel. "You're all right. You were overcome by the heat."

"I saw ... he was on the stairs... . Just as he used to look ... before ... before ..."

"I think," said Dr. Cabel, "we'll get her to her bed. She needs to lie down." He signed to one of the men servants and the man with the doctor got Jessie to her feet.

"Now," said Dr. Cabel soothingly, "we'll get you to bed. I will give you something to drink ... it will help you to sleep."