"I don't know as it's any of your business, stranger; the lady had a permit from the authorities to open this grave."
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
But other voices besides those of the English-looking stranger clamored loudly for reasons, so the old sexton, with a sulky glance at his interlocutor, proceeded to explain to his friends and neighbors, giving in substance the story with which we are already familiar.
When he had finished his voluble story he drew a long breath, and added:
"Lord bless you, I knowed 'em all—poor Daisy, and Charley, and Maria, and all, for I've been sexton at Springville nigh on to forty year. So, as I was a-saying, after Maria confessed that cheat on her death-bed, Mrs. Fielding felt like she couldn't see no rest till she took her child outer the coffin with poor Daisy Forrest. So she get the permit, and just teased and teased, and coaxed and begged, until I had to give in and consent."
"And you were finely imposed on by the story of a mad woman!" exclaimed a sneering voice, and three strangers came quickly upon the scene. The one who had spoken was a medical-looking man with a sinister countenance, and he continued: "Why, my good friend, this is a mad woman who recently escaped from my asylum. I have been seeking her everywhere, and I count myself lucky in finding her at last, for she is very violent at times, and quite capable of murder."
Incredulous voices rose on the air, and Flower rose, pale and trembling, saying, in her low, clear tones:
"I do not know this gentleman, but it is quite true that the lady is mad. I know her well. She was sent to an insane asylum weeks ago."
"Then the story she has told is untrue, a figment of her disordered imagination," said the English-looking stranger, who had offended the sexton.