"Not the house!" he returned, hoarsely.
"I am going on," I said. "Here we are. What is it? Whose is it?"
He came close to me, and whispered solemnly—
"Miss Dorothy! be brave, and make no noise! We are in Farmer Parker's yard; and this is a barn."
Then the terror came over me.
"Let us turn back," I said. "You are right. One may bear one's own troubles, but not drag in other people. Take me home!"
But Robert would not take me home; and my courage came back, and I held the lantern whilst he unfastened the door. Then the ghastly hand passed into the barn, and we followed it.
"It has stopped in the far corner," I said. "There seems to be wood or something."
"It's bundles of wood," he whispered. "I know the place. Sit down, and tell me if it moves."
I sat down, and waited long and wearily, while he moved heavy bundles of firewood, pausing now and then to ask, "Is it here still?" At last he asked no more; and in a quarter of an hour he only spoke once: then it was to say—