"
Valentine accordingly went in the course of a few days to find old Becky
Maddison. The cottage was not far from the village. Only the daughter
was below, and when Valentine had told his name and errand, she went
up-stairs, perhaps to prepare her mother, to whom she presently
conducted him.
Valentine found her a poor bedridden creature, weak, frail, and
querulous. She was in a clean and moderately comfortable bed, and when
she saw him her puckered face and faded eyes began to look more
intelligent and attentive, and she presently remarked on his likeness to
his father.
A chair was set for him, and sitting down, he showed a sovereign in his
palm, and said, "I want to hear the ghost story; tell it me as it really
was, and you shall have this."
A shabby book was lying on the bed.
"Her can tell it no better'n it's told here," said the daughter.
Valentine took up the book. It was the same that he knew; the blue light
and the shroud appeared in it. He put the money into her hand. "No," he
said; "you shall have the money beforehand.
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