The family had hardly finished their breakfast when a number of the neighbors came in in a high state of excitement. They said that blood had been discovered on the grass near where the ghost had been seen, and that quite a crowd had gathered around it. They had found other blood-marks at intervals along the road, and on following the direction in which they traveled, it was found that they led straight to Drysdale's house. The question now arose, did the wounded person go from the house to the creek, or vice versa. Drysdale was terribly excited on learning of the discovery, and he was soon in a species of delirium. It was known that he was quite sick, so that the neighbors soon withdrew. Many thought that the blood was that of a burglar or negro sneak-thief, who might have gone to Drysdale's house to steal, but who had been frightened off before he had secured any plunder. The blood might have been from an old hurt. Others, more superstitiously inclined, believed that the ghost was in some way responsible for the blood. No one was able to solve the mystery, however, and it added to the terror with which the ghost story had inspired the negroes.
Drysdale was now confined to his bed, and he would see no one except his wife and Andrews. He insisted that he was not sick, but only run down by overwork, and so refused to have a doctor. Andrews' influence over him was greater than that of any one else, and it was plain that the latter had completely secured his confidence. As I now felt convinced that Drysdale would surely confess in a short time, I returned to Chicago, leaving the whole charge of the operation with Andrews.
A few nights later Mrs. Potter was troubled with the tooth-ache, and she lay awake most of the night. Suddenly she heard footsteps in Drysdale's room, and then she saw Drysdale pass her window on the veranda. He was dressed in slippers and night-dress, and his actions were so strange that she determined to follow him. Hastily putting on some dark clothes, she hurried cautiously after him. The night was clear with no moon, and she was able to distinguish his white figure at a considerable distance. He walked rapidly to the creek and followed its windings a short distance; then he paused a few minutes, as if reflecting. This enabled Mrs. Potter to hide herself near by in some undergrowth, whence she could watch him more carefully. To her great astonishment, she saw him walk into the creek at a shallow spot, and begin wading up against the current. Very soon he stopped and leaned over with his hands in the water, as if he were feeling for something. In a few minutes he came out of the stream, on the opposite side from that on which he had entered, and took a path to a footbridge leading across the creek toward his house. As soon as she saw that he was on his way back, she hastened home as rapidly as possible, arriving there only a few seconds before him.
The next morning, Drysdale appeared at the breakfast table for the first time, in several days. He remarked that he felt much better, but he said nothing of his midnight walk, nor did his wife, as she had slept in a separate room; however, she was probably ignorant of it.
Neither Mrs. Potter, nor Mr. Andrews could imagine what Drysdale's object was in making his pilgrimage to the creek at that time of night, especially as he had always shown the greatest aversion to that vicinity, ever since he had first seen the ghost. I was equally puzzled when I was informed of his freak, but I determined to make use of the incident, in case he should do the same thing again. I therefore instructed Andrews to have Green watch the house every night, dressed in his apparition suit. He was then to "shadow" Drysdale, when the latter went out, and if a favorable opportunity should present itself, he was to appear before him in full view in the role of the ghost.
By this time, Drysdale had recovered sufficiently, to attend to his office duties, but he always seemed anxious to have Andrews with him. Andrews had talked very encouragingly to him, showed a good deal of sympathy, and thus, they had became quite confidential friends. He, therefore, assured Drysdale that he should be happy to give him as much of his company, as possible, if it would afford Drysdale any pleasure.
"You are very kind, Mr. Andrews," said Drysdale; "you may think it strange, but I feel a sense of relief, when I am with you, especially lately. I wonder if I shall ever be better," he mused plaintively.
"Why, certainly; we hope for your speedy recovery," said Andrews, cheerfully. "You let trivial matters prey on your mind, and you must stop it, for your health will not stand it."
"Well, I shall try," responded Drysdale feebly.
One evening, Mrs. Drysdale was sitting at Mrs. Potter's side, waiting for her husband's return. By this time, Mrs. Potter was able to sit up, and even to move about the room somewhat.