on this point to Mr. Murray, because, while he had the smallest possible belief in human nature, he had the strongest belief in ghosts. As for Warder Slater—what was Warder Slater's state of mind upon the matter may be better judged from a report which he made to the governor, upon his own account, a couple of days after "the" report had been sent.
The "reports" on that particular morning numbered only one: that one was Warder Slater, and the man "reported" was George Solly. Warder and prisoner took up their positions before the cord which was drawn across the room, and on the other side of which sat the governor at his table. The warder, if small in height, was large in girth—a prodigy of stoutness. The prisoner was tall and slender. As regards physical proportions, they presented a pleasing contrast. The officer seemed, for some cause or other, to be not altogether at his ease. The governor opened the inquiry.
"Well, Slater, what is it?"
"Man talking in his night-cell, sir."
"To himself? Or to whom?"
The officer fidgeted—with Batavian grace.
"It's my belief, sir, he had someone in his night-cell along with him."
"Someone with him in his night-cell?"
"Yes, sir; and it's my belief it was a woman."
"A woman?"
The governor looked at the culprit—probably becoming for the first time fully conscious that that culprit was George Solly. Just then Dr. Livermore entered the office at the back. He stood and listened. The officer explained.
