The Indian proprietor greeted Dr. Tully warmly—he should have, we were the only patrons—and bowed us to a table. I ordered a fruit salad (when in doubt, always stick with peeled fruit) and Father Jackson chose a vegetable curry. Our host had something that looked like dark gray pancakes, over which he poured half a large container of honey.

It was several minutes, during which we had a lecture from Dr. Tully on diet and health, before we got around to the subject we had come to discuss. I told Dr. Tully about the three times I had seen General Caine, again omitting the fourth time when he appeared on the front lawn. Dr. Tully listened with great interest, interrupting only to ask for a more detailed description of the General’s features and clothing.

“This is the first time I’ve heard about General Caine being seen on horseback,” he said when I finished, “although your description of the horse tallies with what I’ve learned about the General’s black Arabian mare.”

“He has been seen before, then?” Father Jackson said dubiously.

“Oh, yes. I’ve never before actually spoken with anyone who has seen him, but there are plenty of stories about appearances through the years.”

“But none recently?” Father Jackson persisted.

“The last one I know of occurred about five years ago. It involved a Mrs. Henry Danforth, who used to live on your road, Mrs. Caine. Mrs. Danforth told several people that she had seen the General one night. He apparently was standing in front of the Caine house as she drove past. She described him much as you have, including the uniform. Unfortunately she and her husband sold their place and moved away before I heard about the incident. I’ve written her several times, but she hasn’t answered any of my letters.”

Father Jackson pushed his chair back. “That doesn’t prove very much, does it,” he said.

“I think it proves that she doesn’t want to discuss the incident,” said Dr. Tully agreeably.

“And where else has the General been seen?” I asked.

“Mostly on the road near the house or on the property somewhere. Very few people in this area have ever been inside that house, you know, Mrs. Caine. Your husband’s aunt wasn’t much for visitors of any sort. And, incidentally, if it’s at all possible, I should like . . . sometime . . .”

“Of course,” I said. “Come anytime—while we’re there. Hopefully that won’t be much longer.”

“You might tell Dr. Tully about Stephanie Weber,” Father Jackson suggested. “Also, about your visit to the Weber house.”