“Well, Robert?”
“Well, sir, I determined to follow Mr. S. ... which I did ... on-perceived, and got sight o’ this Oxham, a big chap, very bold and loud-voiced. They seemed to have a deal to say, and, as they parted, Oxham says: ‘My lord returns this week and the lads are all ready, so at word from you we’ll act!’”
“At word from Sturton!” repeated Sir John, and rode awhile musing.
“Sir,” said Robert, at last, “begging your pardon, but do you happen to believe in ghosts, spectres, phantoms and such-like apparitions?”
“Why, no, Bob; I can’t say that I do. Why?”
“Well, I thought I didn’t, sir, but that night I—saw one ... aye, manifest, your honour!”
“How?” questioned Sir John, glancing up sharply. “You actually saw a ghost, Bob?”
“‘Actually’ is the word, sir. All I know is, that I saw something leaning over Wilmington Churchyard wall ... a thing, your honour ... as I don’t want to see again!”
“What sort of thing?”