"'Twere more like real truth than dream," observed Elizabeth.
"We'll take it as dream," said Jabez. "Mebbe it won't happen again."
But precisely the same sounds were heard on the following night. The moon was obscured by thick clouds, and neither of the two had the courage to descend to the kitchen. But they could hear the patter of feet, and then the roll and click of the coins. Again sleep was impossible.
"Whatever shall we do?" asked Elizabeth Hockin next morning of her husband. "Us can't go on like this wi' the dead woman about our house nightly. There's no tellin' she might take it into her head to come upstairs and pull the sheets off us. As we took hers, she may think it fair to carry off ours."
"I think," said Jabez sorrowfully, "we'll have to return 'em."
"But how?"
After some consultation the couple resolved on conveying all the deceased woman's goods to the churchyard, by night, and placing them on her grave.
"I reckon," said Hockin, "we'll bide in the porch and watch what happens. If they be left there till mornin', why we may carry 'em back wi' an easy conscience. We've spent some pounds over her buryin'."
"What have it come to?"
"Three pounds five and fourpence, as I make it out."