While he was making the remark, a small female
figure in white, flitted by without speaking a word, or indeed
appearing to notice them. Her step was scarcely heard as she passed,
and her form was indistinct in the twilight.
"What a figure for a fairy or sprite!" exclaimed Colonel Wildman. "How
much a poet or a romance writer would make of such an apparition, at
such a time and in such a place!"
He began to congratulate himself upon having some elfin inhabitant for
his haunted wood, when, on proceeding a few paces, he found a white
frill lying in the path, which had evidently fallen from the figure
that had just passed.
"Well," said he, "after all, this is neither sprite nor fairy, but a
being of flesh, and blood, and muslin."
Continuing on, he came to where the road passed by an old mill in front
of the Abbey. The people of the mill were at the door. He paused and
inquired whether any visitor had been at the Abbey, but was answered in
the negative.
"Has nobody passed by here?"
"No one, sir."
"That's strange! Surely I met a female in white, who must have passed
along this path."
"Oh, sir, you mean the Little White Lady--oh, yes, she passed by here
not long since.
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