We have taken but little notice of Richard and Maude Ashbrook, who had been present througout the festivities at Stoke Ferry.
They had not taken a very active part in any of the proceedings, remaining for the nonce but passive spectators.
Richard Ashbrook seemed to be a completely broken-down man. He did not appear to have any relish for the sports—occasionally, it is true, a wan smile passed over his melancholy features, but that was all.
He appeared to be thankful when the sports were brought to a conclusion, and pleading indisposition he retired to bed.
For the next few days he grew worse, and it soon became manifest to those about him that his life was drawing to a close. He said he had no desire to live, and that he knew his final time was approaching. He was continually mentioning the name of his deceased wife, Jane Ryan, whose spirit, so he averred, had appeared to him on three separate occasions.
Those about him strove to disposses his mind of this idea, but, for all they could say or do, Richard Ashbrook persisted in his declaration, and so he prepared to settle his worldly affairs.
His brother John, who was almost heart-broken, agreed to take charge of his child and his sister Maude. It was arranged that Oakfield Farm was to be sold, the proceeds of the same were to be handed over to Maude; and in less than a fortnight after the harvest-home at Stoke Ferry Richard Ashbrook breathed his last.
It will be remembered by the reader that the first scene of this history was laid at Oakfield, when Jane Ryan played so conspicuous a part on the night of the burglary by Charles Peace, Gregson, and Cooney.