“Come, speak out, woman,—­don’t you think so?” said Legree.

“Can rats walk down stairs, and come walking through the entry, and open a door when you’ve locked it and set a chair against it?” said Cassy; “and come walk, walk, walking right up to your bed, and put out their hand, so?”

Cassy kept her glittering eyes fixed on Legree, as she spoke, and he stared at her like a man in the nightmare, till, when she finished by laying her hand, icy cold, on his, he sprung back, with an oath.

“Woman! what do you mean?  Nobody did?”

“O, no,—­of course not,—­did I say they did?” said Cassy, with a smile of chilling derision.

“But—­did—­have you really seen?—­Come, Cass, what is it, now,—­speak out!”

“You may sleep there, yourself,” said Cassy, “if you want to know.”

“Did it come from the garret, Cassy?”

“It,—­what?” said Cassy.

“Why, what you told of—­”

“I didn’t tell you anything,” said Cassy, with dogged sullenness.

Legree walked up and down the room, uneasily.

“I’ll have this yer thing examined.  I’ll look into it, this very night.  I’ll take my pistols—­”

“Do,” said Cassy; “sleep in that room.  I’d like to see you doing it.  Fire your pistols,—­do!”

Legree stamped his foot, and swore violently.

“Don’t swear,” said Cassy; “nobody knows who may be hearing you.  Hark!  What was that?”

“What?” said Legree, starting.

A heavy old Dutch clock, that stood in the corner of the room, began, and slowly struck twelve.

For some reason or other, Legree neither spoke nor moved; a vague horror fell on him; while Cassy, with a keen, sneering glitter in her eyes, stood looking at him, counting the strokes.

“Twelve o’clock; well now we’ll see,” said she, turning, and opening the door into the passage-way, and standing as if listening.

“Hark!  What’s that?” said she, raising her finger.

“It’s only the wind,” said Legree.  “Don’t you hear how cursedly it blows?”

“Simon, come here,” said Cassy, in a whisper, laying her hand on his, and leading him to the foot of the stairs:  “do you know what that is?  Hark!”

A wild shriek came pealing down the stairway.  It came from the garret.  Legree’s knees knocked together; his face grew white with fear.

“Hadn’t you better get your pistols?” said Cassy, with a sneer that froze Legree’s blood.  “It’s time this thing was looked into, you know.  I’d like to have you go up now; they’re at it.”

“I won’t go!” said Legree, with an oath.

“Why not?  There an’t any such thing as ghosts, you know!  Come!” and Cassy flitted up the winding stairway, laughing, and looking back after him.  “Come on.”

“I believe you are the devil!” said Legree.  “Come back you hag,—­come back, Cass!  You shan’t go!”