“We seem to have chosen an awkward moment for our visit,” said Miss Halcombe, pushing open the door at the end of the schoolmaster’s address, and leading the way in.

Our appearance produced a strong sensation among the boys.  They appeared to think that we had arrived for the express purpose of seeing Jacob Postlethwaite caned.

“Go home all of you to dinner,” said the schoolmaster, “except Jacob.  Jacob must stop where he is; and the ghost may bring him his dinner, if the ghost pleases.”

Jacob’s fortitude deserted him at the double disappearance of his schoolfellows and his prospect of dinner.  He took his hands out of his pockets, looked hard at his knuckles, raised them with great deliberation to his eyes, and when they got there, ground them round and round slowly, accompanying the action by short spasms of sniffing, which followed each other at regular intervals—­the nasal minute guns of juvenile distress.

“We came here to ask you a question, Mr. Dempster.” said Miss Halcombe, addressing the schoolmaster; “and we little expected to find you occupied in exorcising a ghost.  What does it all mean?  What has really happened?”

“That wicked boy has been frightening the whole school, Miss Halcombe, by declaring that he saw a ghost yesterday evening,” answered the master; “and he still persists in his absurd story, in spite of all that I can say to him.”

“Most extraordinary,” said Miss Halcombe “I should not have thought it possible that any of the boys had imagination enough to see a ghost.  This is a new accession indeed to the hard labour of forming the youthful mind at Limmeridge, and I heartily wish you well through it, Mr. Dempster.  In the meantime, let me explain why you see me here, and what it is I want.”

She then put the same question to the schoolmaster which we had asked already of almost every one else in the village.  It was met by the same discouraging answer Mr. Dempster had not set eyes on the stranger of whom we were in search.

“We may as well return to the house, Mr. Hartright,” said Miss Halcombe; “the information we want is evidently not to be found.”

She had bowed to Mr. Dempster, and was about to leave the schoolroom, when the forlorn position of Jacob Postlethwaite, piteously sniffing on the stool of penitence, attracted her attention as she passed him, and made her stop good-humouredly to speak a word to the little prisoner before she opened the door.

“You foolish boy,” she said, “why don’t you beg Mr. Dempster’s pardon, and hold your tongue about the ghost?”

“Eh!—­but I saw t’ ghaist,” persisted Jacob Postlethwaite, with a stare of terror and a burst of tears.

“Stuff and nonsense!  You saw nothing of the kind.  Ghost indeed!  What ghost——­”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Halcombe,” interposed the school-master a little uneasily—­“but I think you had better not question the boy.  The obstinate folly of his story is beyond all belief; and you might lead him into ignorantly——­”