"I can't say I ever saw one myself. I've known those who have. That is, who say and believe they have. And I'm sure I've no reason to say they haven't. One hears curious tales now and then."
"They are not pleasant things to see," remarked Jelly a little dreamily.
"Well, no; I dare say not."
"For my part, I don't put faith in ghosts," said hearty Mrs. Hepburn, looking up with a laugh. "None will ever come near me, I'll answer for it. I've too many children about me, and too much work to do, for pastime of that sort. Ghosts come from nothing but nervous fancies."
Jelly could not contradict this as positively as she would have liked, so it was best to say nothing at all. She finally rose up to go--Riah might be falling asleep with her head in the candle.
And in spite of the suggested attractions of a supper of toasted cheese and ale, Jelly departed. Things had become as clear as daylight to her.
"I don't so much care now if it does come out," she said to herself as she hastened along. "What Thomas Hepburn can tell as good as proves the doctor's guilt. I knew it was so. And I wish that old Dame Gass had been smothered before she sent me into that doubt and fright last night!"
But the road seemed terribly lonely now; and Jelly more nervous than ever of the shadows.