Meantime Tip had been recaptured, and when he, or rather the ground close beside him, had been beaten severely with sticks, and he himself upbraided in terms which left the censors hoarse, we went down again into the hollow.  Then Lady Atherley returned and gave me tea; and afterwards, in the library, I worked at accounts till it was nearly too dark to write.  No doubt on the high ground the sky was aflame with brilliant colour, of which only a dim reflection tinged the dreary view of sward and leafless trees, to which, for some mysterious reason, a gig crawling down the carriage-drive gave the last touch of desolation.

Just as I laid my pen aside the door opened, and Castleman introduced a stranger.

“If you will wait here, sir, I will find her ladyship.”

The new-comer was young and slight, with an erect carriage and a firm step.  He had the finely-cut features and dull colouring which I associate with the high-pressure life of a busy town, so that I guessed who he was before his first words told me.

“No, thank you, I will not sit down; I expect to be called to my patient immediately.”

The thought of this said patient made me smile, and in explanation I told him from what she was supposed to be suffering.

“Well; it is less common than other forms of feverishness, but will probably yield to the same remedies,” was his only comment.

“You do not believe in ghosts?”

“Pardon me, I do, just as I believe in all symptoms.  When my patient tells me he hears bells ringing in his ear, or feels the ground swaying under his feet, I believe him implicitly, though I know nothing of the kind is actually taking place.  The ghost, so far, belongs to the same class as the other experiences, that it is a symptom—­it may be of a very trifling, it may be of a very serious, disorder.”

The voice, the keen flash of the eye, impressed me.  I recognised one of those alert intelligences, beside whose vivid flame the mental life of most men seems to smoulder.  I wished to hear him speak again.

“Is this your view of all supernatural manifestations?”

“Of all so-called supernatural manifestations; I don’t understand the word or the distinction.  No event which has actually taken place can be supernatural.  Since it belongs to the actual it must be governed by, it must be the outcome of, laws which everywhere govern the actual—­everywhere and at all times.  In fact, it must be natural, whatever we may think of it.”

“Then if a miracle could be proven, it would be no miracle to you?”

“Certainly not.”

“And it could convince you of nothing?”