Dick blurted out this fable: the souls of dead drowned sailormen kept nightly tryst on Castle Down.
"That was no spirit," said I. "Play the man, Dick. Did you ever meet a spirit that trod with the weight of a body?"
I could hear the sound of feet rustling the grass beneath us. Dick listened with his hand to his ear.
"The tread is very light," said he.
"That is because it is a woman who treads."
"No woman would be abroad here in this fog at this time," he protested.
"Nevertheless, it was a woman; for I saw her, and her dress brushed against my hand. It was a woman, and you cried out at her; so that if there is any one else upon the watch to-night, it is very likely we shall have him upon our heels."
That argument sobered him, and we went forward again without speaking to each other, and only halting now and again to listen. In a very short while we heard the sea booming upon the beach, and then Dick stepped forward yet more warily, feeling about with his hands.
"There should be a fence hereabouts," said he, and the next moment I fell over it with a great clatter. A loud whistle sounded from the beach--another whistle answered behind us, and I heard the sound of a man running up from the sand. We both crouched in the grass close by the palisade, and again the fog saved us. I heard some one beating about in the grass with a stick, but he did not come near us, and at last he turned back to the sea.
"You see," said Dick, "I told Lieutenant Clutterbuck the truth. The house is watched."