"They are over ten feet."
"Well, the longest will do. It is about seven feet from the window to the top of the cliff, whereas it is fully fifteen to the bottom, so you see it will be easier to climb down. I'll stay here while you go up on the ridge; then we'll be able to mark the exact spot over the window."
"That's a good scheme. It won't take me long to get up there," and Martin started off at once.
He gained the spot and called out for Owen. No answer came. He looked around to see whether he could have missed the place. No, it could not be; there was the ridge, there the ash tree which Owen had climbed. He waited for some time, then called again: "Owen! Owen!"
He heard the breaking of twigs behind him, and looking around beheld his friend, pale and trembling.
"Owen, what has happened?" he asked.
"I saw a ghost."
"What?"
"A ghost—a bear—something. I don't know what it was."
"Where?"