[Illustration: "BY THE SIDE OF THE HEARSE AND THE COACHES WALKED THESERVANTS WITH LIGHTED TORCHES"]

Four days after these curious incidents, a funeral started fromCanterville Chase at about eleven o'clock at night. The hearse was drawnby eight black horses, each of which carried on its head a great tuft ofnodding ostrich-plumes, and the leaden coffin was covered by a richpurple pall, on which was embroidered in gold the Cantervillecoat-of-arms. By the side of the hearse and the coaches walked theservants with lighted torches, and the whole procession was wonderfullyimpressive. Lord Canterville was the chief mourner, having come upspecially from Wales to attend the funeral, and sat in the firstcarriage along with little Virginia. Then came the United StatesMinister and his wife, then Washington and the three boys, and in thelast carriage was Mrs. Umney. It was generally felt that, as she hadbeen frightened by the ghost for more than fifty years of her life, shehad a right to see the last of him. A deep grave had been dug in thecorner of the churchyard, just under the old yew-tree, and the servicewas read in the most impressive manner by the Rev. Augustus Dampier.When the ceremony was over, the servants, according to an old customobserved in the Canterville family, extinguished their torches, and, asthe coffin was being lowered into the grave, Virginia stepped forward,and laid on it a large cross made of white and pink almond-blossoms. Asshe did so, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and flooded with itssilent silver the little churchyard, and from a distant copse anightingale began to sing. She thought of the ghost's description of theGarden of Death, her eyes became dim with tears, and she hardly spoke aword during the drive home.

[Illustration: "THE MOON CAME OUT FROM BEHIND A CLOUD"]

The next morning, before Lord Canterville went up to town, Mr. Otis hadan interview with him on the subject of the jewels the ghost had givento Virginia. They were perfectly magnificent, especially a certain rubynecklace with old Venetian setting, which was really a superb specimenof sixteenth-century work, and their value was so great that Mr. Otisfelt considerable scruples about allowing his daughter to accept them.

"My lord," he said, "I know that in this country mortmain is held toapply to trinkets as well as to land, and it is quite clear to me thatthese jewels are, or should be, heirlooms in your family. I must begyou, accordingly, to take them to London with you, and to regard themsimply as a portion of your property which has been restored to youunder certain strange conditions. As for my daughter, she is merely achild, and has as yet, I am glad to say, but little interest in suchappurtenances of idle luxury. I am also informed by Mrs. Otis, who, Imay say, is no mean authority upon Art,--having had the privilege ofspending several winters in Boston when she was a girl,--that these gemsare of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale would fetch a tallprice. Under these circumstances, Lord Canterville, I feel sure that youwill recognize how impossible it would be for me to allow them to remainin the possession of any member of my family; and, indeed, all suchvain gauds and toys, however suitable or necessary to the dignity of theBritish aristocracy, would be completely out of place among those whohave been brought up on the severe, and I believe immortal, principlesof Republican simplicity. Perhaps I should mention that Virginia is veryanxious that you should allow her to retain the box, as a memento ofyour unfortunate but misguided ancestor. As it is extremely old, andconsequently a good deal out of repair, you may perhaps think fit tocomply with her request. For my own part, I confess I am a good dealsurprised to find a child of mine expressing sympathy with mediævalismin any form, and can only account for it by the fact that Virginia wasborn in one of your London suburbs shortly after Mrs. Otis had returnedfrom a trip to Athens."

Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the worthy Minister's speech,pulling his grey moustache now and then to hide an involuntary smile,and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially by the hand, andsaid: "My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unluckyancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and I and my family aremuch indebted to her for her marvellous courage and pluck. The jewelsare clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were heartless enoughto take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his gravein a fortnight, leading me the devil of a life. As for their beingheirlooms, nothing is an heirloom that is not so mentioned in a will orlegal document, and the existence of these jewels has been quiteunknown. I assure you I have no more claim on them than your butler, andwhen Miss Virginia grows up, I dare say she will be pleased to havepretty things to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took thefurniture and the ghost at a valuation, and anything that belonged tothe ghost passed at once into your possession, as, whatever activitySir Simon may have shown in the corridor at night, in point of law hewas really dead, and you acquired his property by purchase."

Mr. Otis was a good deal distressed at Lord Canterville's refusal, andbegged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer wasquite firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter toretain the present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of1890, the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's firstdrawing-room on the occasion of her marriage, her jewels were theuniversal theme of admiration. For Virginia received the coronet, whichis the reward of all good little American girls, and was married to herboy-lover as soon as he came of age. They were both so charming, andthey loved each other so much, that every one was delighted at thematch, except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had tried to catchthe Duke for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had given no lessthan three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and, strange tosay, Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Dukepersonally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use hisown words, "was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervatinginfluences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles ofRepublican simplicity should be forgotten." His objections, however,were completely overruled, and I believe that when he walked up theaisle of St. George's, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on hisarm, there was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth ofEngland.

The Duke and Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down toCanterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked overin the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pine-woods. There hadbeen a great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on SirSimon's tombstone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on itsimply the initials of the old gentleman's name, and the verse from thelibrary window. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses,which she strewed upon the grave, and after they had stood by it forsome time they strolled into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. Therethe Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her husband lay at herfeet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenlyhe threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand, and said to her,"Virginia, a wife should have no secrets from her husband."

"Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you."

"Yes, you have," he answered, smiling, "you have never told me whathappened to you when you were locked up with the ghost."

"I have never told any one, Cecil," said Virginia, gravely.

"I know that, but you might tell me."

"Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owehim a great deal. Yes, don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me seewhat Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger thanboth."

The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.

"You can have your secret as long as I have your heart," he murmured.

"You have always had that, Cecil."

"And you will tell our children some day, won't you?"

Virginia blushed.