Abigail was the first to recover herself.
“What ails thee, master?” she cried.
“She’s dead!” answered Shedlock. “I have seen her spirit.”
“Mean’st thou mistress?” demanded Abigail, earnestly.
“She’s dead!” repeated Shedlock.
“Go to! she was a good mistress!” cried Abigail, bursting into tears. “I will go see her.”
Shedlock seized her by the arm. “Woman, she’s dead, I tell thee!” he cried. “Go get some neighbours to lay her out.”
Abigail made no reply, but, as he dropped his hold of her arm, stepped towards the rearward door, and proceeded on the errand he had charged her with. He remained stationary himself, with his eyes fixed on the open door, in evident abstraction and bewilderment, for upwards of half an hour. After that interval, Abigail returned, accompanied by two other women, tenants of a neighbouring cottage, whom she had brought to assist her in laying out her mistress.
“Shall we go see her now?” she asked of Shedlock.