CHAPTER VII.

  A REALLY COMPETENT GHOST.

  Patsy told his story in a few words.

  He had watched the Stevens house all day without discovering anything.

  As evening descended, however, his patience had been rewarded.

  "She came out," said Patsy, "and quietly scooted off across the fields."

  "Millie Stevens?"

  "Yes."

  "What did she do?"

  "She made for that big oak tree which stands in the middle of the fieldon the right of the road as you go from the station.

  "I had to trail carefully, for it was not very dark and there was nocover. So I couldn't get very near her.

  "Under that tree a man was waiting. He had a saddle-horse with him. Theman and the girl exchanged a few words.

  "Of course, I couldn't hear what they said. Neither could I get a lineon the man.

  "I resolved to get nearer, though it was taking big risks. It couldn'tbe done. They saw me.

  "In a flash the man leaped into his saddle and pulled the girl up infront of him in regular old-fashioned style.

  "They were off in no time. It was a fine horse they rode.

  "I wasn't in it at any stage of the game. I ran myself out at the end ofabout a mile.

  "They had disappeared in the darkness, but they were taking the roadtoward this place, and on a venture I came over. I hoped to connect withyou, and get instructions."

  "That was right. Come with me."

  "What's up?"

  "A ghost hunt, unless I'm very much mistaken. I guess we can join itwithout any trouble."

  They made their way into the old portion of the house.

  In the hall from which the broad stone stairs led up to the second floorthey paused a moment to listen.

  Steps were approaching. Before they could get into a place ofconcealment a door opened, and Colonel Richmond entered.

  He carried a small lamp in his hand. Horace followed him.

  "Gilder!" cried the colonel, seeing Nick disguised as the coachman. "Whywere you not present in the parlor?"

  "I've just got back to the house, sir," rejoined the detective,imitating Gilder's Yankee twang".

  "Who's that with you?"

  "My cousin, Frank Gilder."

  "What's he doing here?"

  "If you please, sir, I brought him over to spend the night with me. Thefootman and I don't get along very well together, and I don't like to bealone in a room in this house, sir, just now."

  "So!" said the colonel. "I understand that you have seen strange things.Very well; I am going to investigate this matter. I shall pass theremainder of the night in the dining-hall above."

  The colonel led the way up the stairs. The whole party followed him.

  "May I ask where the other servants are, sir?" said Nick.

  "They will pass the night in the new part of the house," returnedHorace Richmond, with a grim smile. "You can do so if you like."

  "No, sir," said Nick; "I think I'd rather sleep in my own room so longas my cousin is with me."

  At the head of the stairs they turned at once toward the olddining-hall.

  It was proper for Nick to follow, for the nearest way to Gilder's roomled in that direction.

  It was exactly midnight when they opened the door of the olddining-hall. A cool breath of air swept out upon them, for the thickstone walls of this part of the house resisted the hot weather, and thisroom had been kept closed.

  The colonel shivered slightly in the draught.

  He paused on the threshold for a moment, and looked into the room. Itwas lighted--except for the feeble ray from the lamp--only by the faintmoonlight which found its way in through the hall and narrow windows,partly overgrown with clinging vines.

  The whole party entered. The colonel set his lamp upon the sideboard.

  He turned to speak to the supposed Gilder, probably with the intentionof sending him at once to his room.

  But at that moment the lamp suddenly went out.

  With a low cry the colonel sprang toward it. The lamp was not there.

  It had been removed. The room was almost totally dark.

  The colonel lit a match. There was no sign of the lamp. It had utterlyvanished.

  As the burned match fell to the floor a beam of light suddenly shotacross the gloom.

  And there, before the old-fashioned fire-place, stood a figurecorresponding in every particular to Lavina Richmond as she appeared ina portrait painted just previous to her death, and hanging at thatmoment in the colonel's room.

  There was no sound in the room except the labored breathing of theexcited old man, whose faith was now fully justified to his mind.

  He was gazing straight at this apparition.

  It was veiled, and the heavy folds of a black silk dress in the style ofmany years ago hung loosely about the form.

  Immediately a white hand appeared. The veil was lifted, disclosing thethin and pale face of a woman of advanced age and feeble health. Thelikeness of Lavina Richmond was perfect.

  The colonel tried to speak, but his voice stuck in his throat.

  Slowly the veil descended. Nick made a sign to Patsy, who had pressed upa little in advance.

  He had kept an eye over his shoulder, however, to be sure of getting anyorders from his chief.

  There was light enough to see the signal. Patsy sprang forward towardthe specter.

  The distance separating them was not more than twenty feet. The athleticyouth would have covered it in a twinkling.

  But suddenly he fell to the floor with a smothered groan.

  "I'm hit hard," he cried; and, raising himself upon one knee, with hisleft hand pressed to his temple, he drew a revolver with the other.

  "Don't shoot!" exclaimed Nick. "It's Millie Stevens!"

  The detective made a bound toward the figure.

  The light which had played full upon it wavered, as if about to vanish.

  Yet there was time. Nick felt sure of his prize, as he sprang out fromhis place beside the colonel.

  And the next thing Nick knew it was six o'clock of the followingmorning, and he was lying in a bed, looking up into Patsy's face.