“The news had come that day that the squire was to be down next morning at Applewale; and not sorry was I, for I thought I was sure to be sent home again to my mother.  And right glad was I, and I was thinkin’ of a’ at hame, and my sister Janet, and the kitten and the pymag, and Trimmer the tike, and all the rest, and I got sa fidgetty, I couldn’t sleep, and the clock struck twelve, and me wide awake, and the room as dark as pick.  My back was turned to the door, and my eyes toward the wall opposite.

“Well, it could na be a full quarter past twelve, when I sees a lightin’ on the wall befoore me, as if something took fire behind, and the shadas o’ the bed, and the chair, and my gown, that was hangin’ from the wall, was dancin’ up and down on the ceilin’ beams and the yak pannels; and I turns my head ower my shouther quick, thinkin’ something must a gone a’ fire.

“And what sud I see, by Jen! but the likeness o’ the ald beldame, bedizened out in her satins and velvets, on her dead body, simperin’, wi’ her eyes as wide as saucers, and her face like the fiend himself.  ’Twas a red light that rose about her in a fuffin low, as if her dress round her feet was blazin’.  She was drivin’ on right for me, wi’ her ald shrivelled hands crooked as if she was goin’ to claw me.  I could not stir, but she passed me straight by, wi’ a blast o’ cald air, and I sid her, at the wall, in the alcove as my aunt used to call it, which was a recess where the state bed used to stand in ald times wi’ a door open wide, and her hands gropin’ in at somethin’ was there.  I never sid that door befoore.  And she turned round to me, like a thing on a pivot, flyrin’, and all at once the room was dark, and I standin’ at the far side o’ the bed; I don’t know how I got there, and I found my tongue at last, and if I did na blare a yellock, rennin’ down the gallery and almost pulled Mrs. Wyvern’s door off t’ hooks, and frighted her half out o’ wits.

“Ye may guess I did na sleep that night; and wi’ the first light, down wi’ me to my aunt, as fast as my two legs cud carry me.

“Well my aunt did na frump or flite me, as I thought she would, but she held me by the hand, and looked hard in my face all the time.  And she telt me not to be feared; and says she: 

“‘Hed the appearance a key in its hand?’

“‘Yes,’ says I, bringin’ it to mind, ’a big key in a queer brass handle.’

“‘Stop a bit,’ says she, lettin’ go ma hand, and openin’ the cupboard-door.  ‘Was it like this?’ says she, takin’ one out in her fingers, and showing it to me, with a dark look in my face.

“‘That was it,’ says I, quick enough.

“‘Are ye sure?’ she says, turnin’ it round.

“‘Sart,’ says I, and I felt like I was gain’ to faint when I sid it.

“‘Well, that will do, child,’ says she, saftly thinkin’, and she locked it up again.

“’The squire himself will be here today, before twelve o’clock, and ye must tell him all about it,’ says she, thinkin’, ’and I suppose I’ll be leavin’ soon, and so the best thing for the present is, that ye should go home this afternoon, and I’ll look out another place for you when I can.’