“Joe!” called out Sybil, in a gleeful voice—“Joe!”
“Who dar?” answered the man, in affright.
“It is I! Sybil, Joe!”
“Oh, my good gracious Lord in heaven! it’s her spirit as is calling me, and she must be dead!” gasped the man, in a quavering voice.
By this time the two horses were beside the cart, upon the seat of which the driver sat in an extremity of terror.
“Joe, don’t be alarmed! It is Mrs. Berners herself who speaks to you, and I am with her,” said Mr. Berners, soothingly.
“Oh, Marse Lyon! Is it ralely and truly her herself and you yourself?” inquired the man, very doubtingly.
“Really and truly Sybil and myself, Joe.”
“Oh! Lord! how you did scare me!”
“Compose yourself, Joe, and tell me what you are doing here at this time of the morning.”