This was the story told by Peechy Prauw, which had been listened to in dead silence by the men round the fire.
'Is that all?' asked one of them when Peechy stopped.
'All that belongs to the story,' answered he.
'And did Sam never find out what they buried?' inquired Wolfert.
'Not that I know of,' replied Peechy; 'he was kept pretty hard at work after that, and, to tell the truth, I don't think he had any fancy for another meeting with those gentlemen. Besides, places look so different by daylight that I doubt if he could have found the spot where they had dug the grave. And after all, what is the use of troubling about a dead body, if you cannot hang the murderers?'
'But was it a dead body that was buried?' said Wolfert.
'To be sure,' cried Peechy. 'Why, it haunts the place to this day!'
'Haunts!' repeated some of the men, drawing their chairs nearer together.
'Ay. haunts,' said Peechy again. 'Have none of you heard of Father Redcap that haunts the old farmhouse in the woods near Hellgate?'
'Yes,' replied one; 'I've heard some talk of that, but I always took it for an old wives' tale.'
'Old wives' tale or not,' answered Peechy, 'it stands not far from that very spot and a lonely one it is, and nobody has ever been known to live in it. Lights are seen from time to time about the wood at night, and some say an old man in a red cap appears at the windows and that he is the ghost of the man who was buried in the bushes. Once—so my mother told me when I was a child—three soldiers took shelter there, and when daylight came they searched the house through from top to bottom and found old Father Red Cap in the cellar outside on a cider-barrel, with a jug in one hand and a goblet in the other. He offered them a drink, but just as one of the soldiers held out his hand for the goblet, a flash of lightning blinded them all three for several minutes, and when they could see again, Red Cap had vanished, and nothing but the cider-barrel remained.'
