“It’s all right,” ses Emma.  “He’s got a very jealous disposition, poor fellow; and me and Sophy have been telling ’im about a young man just to tease ’im.  We’ve been describing him to ’imself all along, and he thought it was somebody else.”

She caught Charlie’s eye, and all in a flash he saw ’ow he ’ad been done.  Some of ’em began to laugh, and Mrs. Jennings put her ’and on his and gave it a squeeze.  He sat there struck all of a heap, wondering wot he was going to do, and just at that moment there was a knock at the street door.

“I’ll open it,” he ses.

He jumped up before anybody could stop ’im and went to the door.  Two seconds arter Ted Denver followed ’im, and that is last he ever saw of Charlie Brice, he was running down the road without ’is hat as hard as he could run.

[Illustration:  “He was running down the road without ’is hat as hard as he could run.”]

“The toll-house”

“It’s all nonsense,” said Jack Barnes.  “Of course people have died in the house; people die in every house.  As for the noises—­wind in the chimney and rats in the wainscot are very convincing to a nervous man.  Give me another cup of tea, Meagle.”

“Lester and White are first,” said Meagle, who was presiding at the tea-table of the Three Feathers Inn.  “You’ve had two.”

Lester and White finished their cups with irritating slowness, pausing between sips to sniff the aroma, and to discover the sex and dates of arrival of the “strangers” which floated in some numbers in the beverage.  Mr. Meagle served them to the brim, and then, turning to the grimly expectant Mr. Barnes, blandly requested him to ring for hot water.

“We’ll try and keep your nerves in their present healthy condition,” he remarked.  “For my part I have a sort of half-and-half belief in the super-natural.”

“All sensible people have,” said Lester.  “An aunt of mine saw a ghost once.”

White nodded.

“I had an uncle that saw one,” he said.

“It always is somebody else that sees them,” said Barnes.

“Well, there is a house,” said Meagle, “a large house at an absurdly low rent, and nobody will take it.  It has taken toll of at least one life of every family that has lived there—­however short the time—­and since it has stood empty caretaker after care-taker has died there.  The last caretaker died fifteen years ago.”

“Exactly,” said Barnes.  “Long enough ago for legends to accumulate.”

“I’ll bet you a sovereign you won’t spend the night there alone, for all your talk,” said White, suddenly.

“And I,” said Lester.

“No,” said Barnes slowly.  “I don’t believe in ghosts nor in any supernatural things whatever; all the same I admit that I should not care to pass a night there alone.”

“But why not?” inquired White.

“Wind in the chimney,” said Meagle with a grin.