you want than Alfred? He's an aristocrat to his finger tips. I wouldn't think of reducing him from his present rank; what has he done to offend any one?"
"I mean the Judge who took the house—I mean Judge Butler."
"Ah! A man of low origin and no principle, my son—a renegade who betrayed his people for thirty pieces of silver—silver stained with blood—a dirty, contemptible office-seeker. I wouldn't lower myself by speaking to such a man."
"Yes, I know father," John broke in, "but I'm trying to recall to your memory the visits you have made at night lately to the old home."
"Of course, I love the old home. I was born here. I brought my bride here. I'll never leave it except for a better world."
John felt a lump rise in his throat and rose to go. It was useless. Besides, the thing was unthinkable. How could this feeble-old man spring on one of Butler's physique and stab him to death. He couldn't, except in a moment of superhuman frenzy which sometimes comes to the insane. There was the thought which returned again and again to torment him! Aunt Julie Ann declared the ghost was seen to pass through the hall and go upstairs but a few moments before the tragedy. Yes, it was possible.
