stuff: I know I heard footsteps, and so did you, and so there can be no mistake about that. Now, I'll tell you what, Mary, between you and me, it's my belief, that the footsteps we heard were those of no other man in the world than Judkins! I'm sure of it, Mary: and I'm not often wrong. Now, what right had he there, I ask? What was he doing? Depend upon it, Mary, he was after no good!"
Certainly Judkins, who slept over the kitchen, and who had a private staircase to his room, had no right, unless summoned, to be in any other part of the premises at midnight; and, as he was the very person who had suggested that they had been dreaming, it unquestionably did in Cook's judgment seem strange; but just as she was about to take a somewhat more comprehensive view of the private character of Judkins, she went to the window, and through it beheld a white figure mounted upon a white horse, leaping the hedges, and dashing through the meadows as if he had been folllowing the hounds in full cry.
"Mary! Heaven preserve us!" she exclaimed. "What is this?"
Mary rushed to the window, and in an instant cried—"Oh! it's a ghost!"
"Nonsense!—ghosts don't ride on horseback!"
"Oh! but they do though, sometimes."
"It's no ghost, I tell you;—that there is a thief, and that thief is your sweetheart, the miller."
"I tell you it's not then!" cried Mary, indignantly. "He a thief, indeed! Well, I'm sure."
"I know him by the way in which he rides, and I never did think he was better than he should be. Depend upon it, Mary, he's been in the house, and when we frightened him away, he stole the horse out of the stable, for I'll take my oath that's Snorter—look!"
Away the white figure flew over the fields, and then made a circuit, and then crossed the road, when, as the moon shone full upon him, and he could with the utmost distinctness be seen, they made up their minds at once to point him out to Judkins, and with that view went to his door and knocked.
"Who's there?" cried Judkins, somewhat startled, for he had just got into his second sleep.
"Me!" replied cook; "its only me, Judkins!"
"Well, what do you want?"
"I was right after all. Do come to the door."
"Not a bit of it!—not if I know it. Go to bed, and don't bother,"
"I tell you there's a thief about the premises."
"1 know there's a fool about the premises."
"I've seen him!" returned cook. "He's just stolen Snorter!"
"I wish you were a Snorter with all my soul!" said Judkins, on getting out of bed. "Well," he continued, while putting on his smalls, "this is a very pretty game, I think! There's certainly nothing like a change! and such a change as this is, I must say, a treat!—Now then," he added, on opening the door, "what fresh maggot's this you've got into your head?"
"It's no maggot, Judkins," said cook; "it's a fact, Look through
