"This rot about the woods and the spirits of dead soldiers?" Garth asked.
Alden stirred. He nodded in the direction of the rear casement windows.
"Just across the lawn."
"You haven't seen?" Garth asked sharply.
"But," Alden said, "the servants—"
This, then, Garth decided, must be the source of the fear the other's appearance recorded.
"Nonsense, Mr. Alden. That's one of the commonest superstitions the world over, that soldiers come back to the battlefields where they have died, and in time of war—"
"If there's nothing in it," Alden whispered, "why is it so common? Why did my servants swear they had seen? And the fog! We've had too much fog lately—every night for a week. My man died in the fog."
Garth whistled.
"Could they have mistaken him for you?"