CHAPTER XIX

LESLIE opened her eyes and frowned up into the face that was bent over her. She was lying on the verge of the road, for Dick had carried her down into the cutting and a hundred yards towards Willow House.

"Oh, how awful!" she shuddered, and closed her eyes."It was the Black Abbot?"

Dick Alford did not reply for a while. His anxiety for the girl was such that all other interests had passed from his mind.

"I am all right now," she said, and, with his assistance, stood shakily on her feet."I told you I was a fool. This is my crazy day! Dick, what was it?"

"He was too far away from me to see," said Dick;"probably one of our stupid villagers under the influence of drink."

She shook her head.

"No, it was not that, Dick! It was—" She shuddered again."I think I'd better go home."

"I think you'd be wise," he said gravely."I wish I hadn't brought you out now."

She laughed a little shakily and clung to him tighter.

"In a way I'm glad you did," she said, as they walked slowly towards her home."Dick, I had all sorts of queer dreams: just before I woke up I felt somebody kiss me. It was so convincing that I can still feel the lips on my cheek."

"I kissed you," he said, without shame."I thought the shock would bring you to life!"

Her laughter was almost hysterical, for Leslie's nerves were jangled and on edge.

"You might at least have denied that," she said."Dick, you have no subtlety!"

As they walked slowly towards the house, she noticed that he looked back once or twice.

"You're not expecting that—that thing to follow us, are you?" she asked, her teeth chattering.

"No, I thought I heard a car" (which was true)."I'll swear I saw a haze of light over the crest of the road, but I must have been mistaken."

He was not mistaken, and knew it. A car had been following them, had been slowly ascending the hill to the cutting; he had seen the reflected rays from the lamps distinctly, and had heard the soft purr of the engine. What was more certain than anything else, the car could not have turned in that narrow road, so that the only explanation was that the unknown driver had switched off his lights and stopped his machine.

"Let me look at you." He turned her to the moonlight and lifted her face."I don't know whether you're horribly pale or whether it's a trick of the moon," he said,"but you look mighty ill! You had better go straight to bed, preferably without seeing your brother."

"Why?" she asked, in surprise.

"I don't want this spook story to get around, for one thing," he said."And for another—oh, well, the other doesn't matter."

Leslie realised that she was walking at a much slower pace than her physical weakness justified. She was still a little shaky, but in every sense had recovered from the shock. Too sane to believe in ghosts, she had nevertheless been shaken by the terrible exp