It was late morning when we arrived. Jenny’s parents’ home was a typical gray stone farm laborer’s cottage, with small windows and a front door that led straight into the narrow front room.

I was going to knock, but Jenny walked straight in, and so I followed. It was gloomy inside, with a small fire flickering in the grate and a man and a woman sitting very close to it. The man was warming his hands. He was bald but for tufts of white hair over each ear. The woman wore a bonnet that looked none too clean, and her hands were wrinkled and covered with bulging blue veins. Both were getting on in years.

“Mam! Dad!” Jenny said without any preamble. “This is Master Ward, the Chipenden Spook. He’s going to take me on as his apprentice.”

Jenny’s dad didn’t even turn to acknowledge me. He just carried on warming his hands and staring into the fire. The mother didn’t get up to greet me either, but at least she swiveled her head and met my eye.

“She’s a wild one, that!” She nodded toward Jenny. “Nearly been the death of me, she has. Goes gallivanting all over the County and never thinks to help her poor old mam and dad. What a worry she’s been. I wish we had a lad, not a mad girl like that.”

“That’s enough, Mother!” Jenny’s dad rebuked her angrily. He turned in his chair and looked at me for the first time. “Well, Master Ward, let’s get down to business. If you’re going to put her to work, how much will you be paying us for her services?”

I smiled. “It’s usually the other way round, Mr. Calder,” I explained. “When my own master took me on as his apprentice, my dad paid him two guineas to start with, and another ten after the trial period was over. You see, I’m offering to teach her a trade that will eventually provide her with a good steady livelihood. Not only that . . . her food and accommodation are free. The guineas are just part of the contract and go nowhere near covering the full cost that I’ll be put to.”

“But she’ll be working hard and making your life easier. There should be some payment for that, or it doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s the way it’s always been done,” I explained calmly. “At first apprentices can do little to help. Even after several years’ training, they rarely go out on jobs alone.”

Of course, all I actually knew was John Gregory’s way of doing things, but I wasn’t going to admit as much to this man.

“Why’s that, then?”

“Because it’s dangerous work, Mr. Calder,” I replied. “Some creatures from the dark can kill you—especially boggarts.”

“Boggarts!” he scoffed. “It’s a load o’ rubbish! Ghosts and boggarts—they’re just superstitious stories to frighten fools who’ll pay good money for what you pretend to do. Still, don’t get me wrong, if it makes you a living, I don’t blame you one bit. Folks are gullible, but what you do at least gives ’em peace of mind, I’ll say that for you.”