Bacchus was quite discomposed again, but he said in an appealing voice to his wife, “Phillis, I couldn’t stand it; when Miss Alice was so low, you was busy, and could be a doin somethin for her; but what could I do?  Here I sot all night a cryin, a thinkin about her and young master.  I ’spected for true she was gwine to die; and my blessed grief! what would have come of us all.  Master Arthur, he’d a come home, but what would be the use, and she dead and gone.  Every which way I looked, I think I see Miss Alice going up to Heaven, a waving her hand good-by to us, and we all by ourselves, weepin and wailin.  ’Deed, Phillis, I couldn’t stand it; if I hadn’t had a little whiskey I should a been dead and cold afore now.”

“You’ll be dead and cold afore long with it,” said Phillis.

“I couldn’t do nothing but cry, Phillis,” said Bacchus, snuffing and blowing his nose; “and I thought I might be wanted for somethin, so I jest took a small drop to keep up my strength.”

Phillis said nothing.  She was rather a hard-hearted woman where whiskey was concerned; so she gave Bacchus no encouragement to go on excusing himself.

“I tell you why I believes in ghosts,” said Bacchus, after a pause.  “I’ve see’d one.”

“When?” said Phillis.

“I was telling you that while Miss Alice was so ill,” said Bacchus, “I used to set up most of de night.  I don’t know how I kep up, for you know niggers takes a sight of sleep, ’specially when they aint very young, like me.  Well, I thought one time about Miss Alice, but more about old Aunt Peggy.  You know she used to set outside de door thar, very late o’ nights.  It ’peared like I was ’spectin to see her lean on her stick, and come out every minute.  Well, one night I was sure I hear somethin thar.  I listened, and then somethin gin a kind o’ screech, sounded like de little niggers when Aunt Peggy used to gin ’em a lick wid her switch.  Arter a while I see de curtain lifted up.  I couldn’t see what it was, but it lifted it up.  I hearn some more noise, and I felt so strange like, that I shut de door to, and went to bed.  Well, I seed dat, and heard it for two or three nights.  I was gettin scared I tell you; for, Phillis, there’s somethin awful in thinkin of people walking out of their graves, and can’t get rest even thar.  I couldn’t help comin, every night, out here, ’bout twelve o’clock, for that’s time sperrits, I mean ghosts, is so uneasy.  One night, de very night Miss Alice got better, I hearn de screech an de fuss, and I seed de curtain go up, and pretty soon what do you think I saw.  I’m tellin’ you no lie, Phillis.  I seed two great, red eyes, a glarin out de winder; a glarin right at me.  If you believe me, I fell down out of dis very cheer, and when I got up, I gin one look at de winder, and thar was de red eyes glarin agin, so I fell head-foremost over de door step, tryin to get in quick, and then when I did get in, I locked de door.  My soul, wasn’t I skeered.  I never looked no more.  I seen nuff dat time.”