‘For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?’ I observed.

‘No, Mr. Lockwood,’ said Nelly, shaking her head. ‘I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity.’

At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning.

‘THEY are afraid of nothing,’ I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. ‘Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions.’

As they stepped on to the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at the moon - or, more correctly, at each other by her light - I felt irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and, pressing a remembrance into the hand of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding