“Nonsense! he has been dead this many a-year; it was all fancy, Tim,” said Wildfire Ned, chuckling.
“No, it wasn’t, sir, all due respect to you, sir; he was alive.”
“Alive?”
“Aye, gentlemen, alive; I could swear it as sure as I live.”
“You were timorous, that is all, and fancied so.”
“No, Sir Richard, I never was so brave in all my life, although I felt my blood run cold. It spoke to me.”
“Spoke to you?”
“Yes sir.”
“What did it say?”
“‘Halt!’ it shouted, and on the instant my horse stopped, and would not budge an inch. ‘Halt!’ it said, in awful tones, glaring down on me with its fiery eyes. ‘I am one of the Skeleton Crew,’ it said; ‘go, tell your master that Farmer Bertram is murdered!’”