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Vansome's bed, when she was still wide awake, with outstretched hands and entreating eyes, but no voice had been heard. The apparition to his mother had convinced Father Vansome that what he had experienced was no trick of the imagination. He had, however, taken counsel with Val, who, like himself, was of opinion that the Mass ought to be said.

As it happened, I had arranged for Willy to bring the cart in time to start soon after ten; for Val had to drive somewhere in the afternoon, and it was as well to give Tim a rest before starting out again. This I explained to Father Vansome. "I wonder whether you could give me a lift," was his remark.

Father Vansome said the required Mass next morning, and his mother drove over to assist at it. Her prayers and mine were thus united with the supreme Sacrifice on behalf of the soul so greatly in need. The apparition has never been seen again, though many a Catholic guest has visited Ardmuir House.

I was too firmly convinced that I had actually seen such a figure to entertain the idea. Dinner passed without particular incident. I had an interesting chat after with young Father Vansome.

He sat down to table with us, and after the meal he and Val drove off together in the trap; they had arranged that Father Vansome should get down at a point where their roads diverged. I was rather astonished to learn, when I took leave of him, that he hoped to return that same evening, as he had a particular reason for wishing to say Mass next day.

Yielding to a sudden, irresistible impulse, he exclaimed: "Tell me, in God's name, who you are and what you want of me?" The answer came in a clear, distinct voice: "I am Elizabeth Ashol. I am suffering for a wrong done to my stepson, Gilbert, a monk of your Order. Say Mass for my soul and I shall have rest." Then the figure vanished. Father Vansome naturally had no more sleep that morning.

He saw the figure of an elderly woman, clad in antique garb, holding by the hand a young man, who wore the habit of his own Order. The woman fixed upon him eyes full of entreaty, and implored him in piteous accents to offer Mass for her soul, for it was in his power to release her from grievous torments. Father Vansome then awoke, the impression made by his dream still vivid.

When dinner was over, it occurred to me to introduce the subject of my own ghostly experience, for I was curious to hear what the priests would think of it. As I led up to it by degrees I saw the dark eyes of Father Vansome light up with expectation. Both he and Val listened with keen interest, neither attempting to interrupt the narration. Then they looked spontaneously at each other.

I had been rejoicing in the prospect of an agreeable drive with a pleasant companion, for I had been greatly attracted by the young monk; but I was doomed to disappointment. My constant efforts at conversation fell flat; for the priest seemed preoccupied, and his responses were evidently merely mechanical. Father Vansome was closeted with Val up to lunch time.

Father Vansome was driven over again in time for dinner. During the progress of the meal I was inclined to make merry over my find; but I had little success in gaining the interest either of Val or our guest, who both seemed to shun the topic.