At this junction our counsel interposed with a suggestion that there was no insinuation about any banshee residing at River Hall.
"No, the question is about a ghost, and I am coming to that. Different countries have different usages. In Ireland, as Miss Blake admits, there exists a very ladylike spirit, who announces the coming death of any member of certain families. In England, we have ghosts, who appear after the death of some members of some families. Now, Miss Blake, I want you to exercise your memory. Do you remember a night in the November after Mr. Elmsdale's death?"
"I remember many nights in many months that I passed broken-hearted in that house," she answered, composedly; but she grew very pale; and feeling there was something unexpected behind both question and answer, our counsel looked at us, and we looked back at him, dismayed.
"Your niece, being nervous, slept in the same room as that occupied by you?" continued the learned gentleman.
"She did," said Miss Blake. Her answer was short enough, and direct enough, at last.
"Now, on the particular November night to which I refer, do you recollect being awakened by Miss Elmsdale?"
"She wakened me many a time," answered Miss Blake, and I noticed that she looked away from her questioner, and towards the gallery.
"Exactly so; but on one especial night she woke you, saying, her father was walking along the passage; that she knew his step, and that she heard his keys strike against the wall?"
"Yes, I remember that," said Miss Blake, with suspicious alacrity. "She kept me up till daybreak. She was always thinking about him, poor child."
"Very natural indeed," commented our adversary. "And you told her not to be foolish, I daresay, and very probably tried to reassure her by saying one of the servants must have passed; and no doubt, being a lady possessed of energy and courage, you opened your bedroom door, and looked up and down the corridor?"