Miss Berengaria's servants had been with her for a long time and were all respectable. She was—needless to say—very good to them, and they adored and obeyed her in quite a manner. When at supper in the servants' hall—all old and all —they might have been a company of Quakers from the sobriety of their . The head of the table was taken by the cook, and the foot by James the coachman. Those two were married and were both fat, both to Miss Berengaria, and both rulers of the other servants. The coachman swayed the little kingdom of domestics with his wife as queen.  
On the very evening Miss Plantagenet came back from Castle, the servants were enjoying a good supper, and James was detailing the events of the day. After this his wife what had taken place during his absence. And at the side of the table sat Jerry, looking the picture of , occupied with his bread and cheese, but taking everything in. The information conveyed to James by the cook related to several tramps that had called, and to the of two by a fox terrier that belonged to a neighbor.
 
"And a nice rage the missus will be in over them," said cook.
 
"You should have set Jane on the terrier," said James. "Our is prize birds and worth a dozen of them snappy dogs as bite the heels of respectable folk."
 
"Sloppy Jane was with me," said a sedate housemaid. "A tramp came to the gate asking for Miss Alice, and I couldn't get him away."
 
"What did he want with Miss Alice?" demanded James, aggressively.
 
"Ah, what indeed!" said the housemaid. "I told him Miss Alice wouldn't speak to the like of him. But he looked a gentleman, though he had a two days' beard and was dressed in such rags as you never saw."
 
"Did he go, Sarah?"
 
"Oh, yes, he went in a lingering sort of way, and I had to tie Jane up in case she'd fly on him. I didn't want that."
 
"Why not?" said the coachman, . "Tramps is tramps."
 
Sarah pondered. "Well, cook and James, it's this way," she said, with some . "This murder of old Sir Simon—" Jerry up his ears at this and looked more innocent than ever.
 
"Go on," said the cook, wondering why Sarah stopped.
 
"They said his grandson done it."
 
"And that I'll never believe," cried James, pounding the table. "A noble young gentleman Mr. Bernard, and many a half-crown he's given me. He never did it, and even if he did, he's dead and gone."
 
Sarah drew back from the table. "I really forgot that," she whimpered. "It must have been his ghost," and she threw her over her head.
 
"What's that, Sarah? A ghost! There's no such thing. Whose ghost?"
 
"Mr. Bernard's," said Sarah, looking scared, as she removed her apron. "Oh, to think I should have lived to see a ghost. Yes, you may all look, but that tramp, and torn, was Mr. . Don't I know him as well as I know myself?"
 
"Sarah," said James, while the cook turned pale and Jerry listened more eagerly than ever, "you in a crazy way."
 
"Oh, well, there's no knowing," cried Sarah, , "but the tramp was Mr. Gore, and I forgot he was dead. His ghost—it must have been his ghost. No wonder Jane wanted to fly at him."
 
"Mr. Bernard's ghost wanting to see Miss Alice!" said cook. "Get along with you, Sarah! He must be alive. I don't believe all the papers say. Perhaps he wasn't drowned after all."
 
"We must inquire into this," said James, and feeling for his glasses. "Oh, by the way"—he drew a dirty envelope out of his pocket—"here's something for you, young shaver." He threw it across to Jerry. "I was sitting in the kitchen in his lordship's castle and being waited on by a dark-eyed wench. I told her of us here and mentioned you. She said she knew you and asked me to give you that. And, to be sure, she would know you," added James, half to himself, "seeing Mrs. Moon is your grandmother, and a fine figure of a woman. But this here ghost——"
 
Jerry rose from the table and retreated to a corner of the warm room to read his note. But he kept his ears open all the time to the coachman's of Sarah's doings with the tramp. The note was from Victoria asking Jerry to come over and see her, and stating that there was a gentleman stopping at the [pg 211]castle. "There's something queer about him, Jerry, as he keeps himself very much to himself. Also he knows your whistle as you whistles to me, which is funny. Can't you come over and see me?" This, with all allowance for mis-spelling, was what Jerry deciphered. Then he thrust the note into his pocket and returned to the table.
 
"He had an awful cough, this tramp," said Sarah.
 
"Ghosts don't cough," remarked cook.
 
"This one did awful, and he looked that pale and thin as never was."
 
"He went away in broad daylight?" asked James.
 
"It was getting dark—about five maybe. I was sorry for him, and I would have let him in to see Miss Alice, he seemed so disappointed."
 
"Ah, Sarah, it's a pity you didn't let him in."
 
"But, Mr. James, you can a-bear tramps."
 
"Or ghosts," added the cook, fearfully.
 
"It were no tramp and no spectre," said the coachman. "I see it all." He looked solemnly round the company. "This was Mr. Bernard come to see if Miss Alice will help him. He's alive, God be praised!"
 
"Amen," said the cook, bowing her head as though in church.
 
"And if he comes again, we will let him in and say nothing to the police."
 
"I should not," said Sarah; "he looked so sad and pale. Oh dear me! and such a fine, handsome young gentleman he was, to be sure."
 
"We will swear to be silent," said James, solemnly, "seeing as we are all sure Mr. Bernard never killed old Sir Simon."
 
"I'd never believe it if a jury told me," said the cook.
 
"Young Jerry, swear to be silent."
 
"Oh! I'm fly, Mr. James," said Jerry, easily; "but who is Mr. Bernard? and why did he kill Sir Simon?"
 
"He didn't, and he's the present baronet at the Hall, young Jerry. You don't or I'll thrash you within an inch of your life."
 
"Oh, he won't talk," said the good-natured cook. "He's an angel."
 
Sarah snorted. She was not so impressed with Jerry's angelic qualities as the rest of the company. However, Jerry, who had his own reasons to retire, slipped away unostentatiously and read Victoria's letter for the second time. Then he talked to himself in a whisper.
 
"He's alive after all," he said, "and he's stopping at that castle. I daresay the old girl"—he thus described his mistress—"went over to there to see him with Miss Alice. And they brought him back, dropping him on the way so that he could get into the house quietly. He knows my whistle. No one but him could know it, as he heard me on that night. What's to be done? I'll go out and have a look round. He may come back again."
 
Jerry was too young to be so exact as he should be. There were several flaws in his argument. But he was too excited to think over these. It never struck him that Miss Plantagenet could have Gore easier into the house by bringing him in her carriage after swearing James to , than by letting him approach the house in the character of a tramp. But it was creditable to the lad's observation that he so quickly the mysterious stranger at the castle should be Bernard. Jerry knew that Conniston was a close friend of Gore's, and saw at once that Bernard had [pg 213]sought the refuge of the castle where he would remain undiscovered. But for Victoria's hint Jerry would never have guessed this. It was his duty to communicate this knowledge to Beryl, but for reasons of his own connected with the chance of a reward or a to hold his tongue, from someone who could pay better than Beryl—say Lord Conniston—Jerry to wait quietly to see how things would turn out. Meanwhile he strolled round to the fowls, where he thought it likely the tramp—if he was a tramp—might come. If not a tramp he might come this way also as the easiest to enter the grounds.
 
The poultry yard was carved out of a large meadow by the side of the gardens. It ran back a considerable distance from the high road, and at the far end was fenced with a thin of elms. Wire netting and stout fences surrounded the yard, and there was a gate opening on to the meadow aforesaid. Jerry round these precincts watching, but he did not expect any luck. However, the boy, being a born bloodhound, waited for the sheer excitement of the thing.
 
Now it happened that Miss Berengaria had left the house of a pair of Cochin fowls unlocked. She would have gone out to lock it herself but that she was so weary. All the same, she would not delegate the duty to her servants, as she considered they might not execute the commission properly. Finally Alice offered to go, and, after putting on a thick and a large pair of rubber boots which belonged to Miss Plantagenet, she ventured out. Thus it was that she paddled round to the yard with a lantern and came into the neighborhood of Jerry. That suspicious young man immediately thought she had heard of Bernard's coming and had come out to meet him. He snuggled into a corner near the gate and watched as best he could in the darkness.
 
It was pouring rain, and the sky was black with swiftly-moving clouds. These streamed across the face of a haggard-looking moon, and in the flaws of the wind down came the rain in a perfect .
 
Alice, with her dress up, a lantern in one hand and an umbrella of the Gamp species extended above her head, ventured into the yard, a............