"Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. \" She said. "Don't stir," replied Jack. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. The simile started a laugh in his throat. In a fit of despondency, superinduced by drunkenness, he made away with himself; and when the body was discovered, after a lapse of some months, such was the impression produced by the spectacle —such the alarm occasioned by the crazy state of the building, and, above all, by the terror inspired by strange and unearthly noises heard during the night, which were, of course, attributed to the spirit of the suicide, that the place speedily enjoyed the reputation of being haunted, and was, consequently, entirely abandoned. “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector.
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