"For that matter," said the grave-digger, "it comes into my mind that
my father used to call it the stamp of Satan's foot, because he claimed
the dead man for his own. It is plain to see that there was a deep deft
between two of the toes."

"There are two ways of telling that legend," remarked the Doctor. "But
did you find nothing in the grave, Hewen?"

"O, yes,--a bone or two,--as much as could be expected after above a
hundred years," said the grave-digger. "I tossed them aside; and if you
are curious about them, you will find them when the snow melts. That
was all; and it would have been unreasonable in old Colcord--especially
in these republican times--to have wanted to keep his grave any longer,
when there was so little of him left."

"I must drop the matter here, then," said Hammond, with a sigh. "Here,
my friend, is a trifle for your trouble."

"No trouble," said the grave-digger, "and in these republican times we
can't take anything for nothing, because it won't do for a poor man to
take off his hat and say thank you."

Nevertheless, he did take the silver, and winked a sort of
acknowledgment.

The Doctor, with unwonted hospitality, invited the English stranger to
dine in his house; and though there was no pretence of cordiality in
the invitation, Mr. Hammond accepted it, being probably influenced by
curiosity to make out some definite idea of the strange household in