Fetching pen and paper, the blacksmith made a rapid computation of what would be due Oliver at any time within the next month. Then he went to a cupboard in his room above the "office" and took from a small safe there the amount of cash which should satisfy even the "just" holder of the Chesters' "note." He gave the money into Dorothy's hands with a smile, saying:
"This is yours, your very own. It is no gift nor loan of mine. It was intrusted to me by a law firm in Baltimore, the business managers of Mrs. Calvert's property. Kidder & Kidder are the gentlemen. Well, what?"
"I've heard, I know about them. Why, Mr. Winters, I've seen that old Mr. Kidder!" cried Dorothy, eagerly.
"I'm glad of it. Well, I cannot explain much to you; only I can and do say that somebody related to you by blood, somebody of your own family that you never knew, left this money and a little more with these gentlemen; to be used by, or for, you whenever a case of real necessity occurred. They are my own lawyers, too, as well as Mrs. Cecil's; so after you moved to Skyrie, knowing I was such a near neighbor, they wrote and asked me to take care of the small fund for you. I wasn't to mention it until that case of need I spoke of, and that has now surely arrived. Hurray! Three cheers for the climax! I can picture your face—all your faces—when 'payment on demand' is demanded, and you so calmly—it must be very calmly, Dolly dear!—come forward with that 'payment' in hand. One word of advice to you, more. Try to persuade your parents to hold on to south meadow. Things are stirring nowadays, and that very 'Folly' may yet show old Simon's wisdom, by proving the most valuable spot on Skyrie farm or any other land 'up-mounting.' Keep the fact of your having the money a secret till the right time comes. Then, hurray!"
For a few moments the astonished girl could do no more than turn over and over the fat wallet which Seth had thrust into her hands; and she was so enraptured by the thought that it was she, she herself, who should come to her parents' relief that she could only smile and smile. She could not even join in this boyish old fellow's hurraying; yet looking on her happy face, he was quite satisfied.
However, amid all her joy one dark word had fastened on her consciousness: "Secret." She had come in part to confide her own dread secret of the Ghost to this kind man, who would, she was sure, neither deride her fear nor fail to help her. Seth Winters helped everybody worthy of his help. All the mountain folk said so and trusted him.
"Mr. Winters, that story about there being a ghost at Skyrie is—is true. I suppose you've heard it, haven't you?"
"Oh, yes! I've heard."
There was no scorn in his expression. The same gentle gravity rested upon his features that had inspired the confidences of so many troubled souls and now won hers. All the boyish hilarity he had manifested over the outwitting of Oliver Sands had vanished, and with a fatherly tenderness he drew Dorothy to him and listened intently as she said:
"Yes, Mr. Winters, it—is—true. I didn't believe Alfaretta when she told about it. I thought there were no such things. But there is a ghost haunts Skyrie and—I—have—seen—it. I have to believe my own eyes, haven't I?"