“Hush!” he murmured.  “Let go of my wrist.  You’ve pinched it black and blue.  Which room did you leave her in?  Show me at once.”

Kyan’s trembling knees managed to carry him to the little hall leading from the sitting room toward the ell at the side of the house.  This hall was almost pitch black.  The minister felt his guide’s chin whisker brush his ear as the following sentence was literally breathed into it: 

“Here—­here ‘tis,” panted Kyan.  “Here’s the door.  I don’t hear nothin’, do you?  Listen!”

They listened.  Not a sound, save the dismal tick of the clock in the room they had left.  Ellery knocked on the door.

“Miss Pepper,” he said; “Miss Pepper, are you there?”

Kyan caught his breath.  No answer.

“Miss Pepper,” repeated the minister.  “Miss Pepper!”

Silence, absolute.  Abishai could stand it no longer.  He groaned and collapsed on his knees.

“She has!” he moaned.  “She’s done it and there ain’t nothin’ in there but her remains.  Oh, my soul!”

Ellery, now rather frightened himself, shook him violently.

“Be quiet, you idiot!” he commanded.  “We must go in.  Give me the key.”

After repeated orders and accompanying shakings, Kyan produced a key.  The minister snatched it from his trembling fingers, felt for the keyhole and threw the door open.  The little room was almost as dark as the hall and quite as still.  There was a distinct smell of old clothes and camphor.

“A match,” demanded Ellery.  “Quick!”

“I ain’t got none,” quavered Mr. Pepper.  “They’re all in the box in the settin’ room.  Oh, my godfreys mighty!  What’ll I do?  What undertaker’ll I have?  Solon Tripp’s the reg’lar one, but Laviny and he had a row and she said she’d come back and ha’nt me if I ever let him touch her rema—­Where you goin’?  Don’t leave me here!”

The minister was going after a match, and said so.  In a moment he returned with several.  One of these he lit.  The brimstone sputtered, burned blue and fragrant, then burst into a yellow flame.

The little room was empty.

John Ellery drew a breath of relief.  Then he laughed.

“Humph!” he exclaimed.  “She’s gone.”

“Gone?  Why, she ain’t nuther!  Where could she go?”

“I don’t know, but she has gone—­somewhere.  At any rate, she’s not here.”

Kyan rose to his feet.  His alarm had changed to paralyzed astonishment.

“How could she go?” he repeated.  “That window won’t open more’n six inches.  Laviny ain’t what you’d call fleshy, but she never could squeeze through that in this world.  And I locked the door, ’cause I heard the click.  I—­I—­I—­do you b’lieve in spirits, Mr. Ellery?”

“Nonsense!  Come into the sitting room, light a lamp, and let’s talk it over.”

The lamp was found and lighted at last.  Its radiance brightened the dingy sitting room.