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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts"


More than this, that will had already passed into action. His destiny
was actually launched on the full spring tide that sucked the crevices
of the grey wall at the garden's end.
A slight sound drew the minister's gaze down from the moon to the
quay-door. Its upper flap still stood open, allowing a square of
moonlight to pierce the straight black shadow of the garden wall.
In this square of moonlight were now framed the head and shoulders of a
human being. The young man felt a slight chill run down his spine.
He leant forward out of the window and challenged the apparition, bating
his tone as all people bate it at that hour.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
There was no reply for a moment, though he felt sure his voice must have
carried to the quay-door. The figure paused for a second or two, then
unbarred the lower flap of the door and advanced across the wall's
shadow to the centre of the bright grass-plat under the window. It was
the figure of a young woman. Her head was bare and her sleeves turned
up to the elbows. She wore no cloak or wrap to cover her from the night
air, and her short-skirted, coarse frock was open at the neck. As she
turned up her face to the window, the minister could see by the moon's
rays that it was well-favoured.
"Be you the new preacher?" she asked, resting a hand on her hip and
speaking softly up to him.
"I am the new Independent minister.


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