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an animal does.”
    â€œWe will need a coffin,” Jonathan said. “We cannot bury a person in the dirt like a dog or a cat.”
    â€œYes,” agreed Abigail. “You go find a box, and I will look for a place to bury her.”
    Jonathan crossed the village common and entered the tavern to search for a girl-size box. He found a wooden crate. It was a little short, but it would have to do.
    He hoisted the crate onto his shoulder and carried it outside to Abigail. He didn’t see her by the meeting-house where he had left her.
    â€œAbigail?” he called, immediately worried.
    No answer.
    After setting the crate on the ground, he walked down the road. He heard high-pitched giggling behind the village magistrate’s house.
    Jonathan peered around the side of the house. He uttered a low cry of surprise when he spotted Abigail. She was playing with another little girl!
    Jonathan stared at the little girl, startled to see another living person in Wickham. She was skinny, with long blond curls poking out from under her cap, and gray eyes. Where on earth had she come from? he wondered.
    He started toward his sister. “Abigail—” he began.
    At the sight of him, the other little girl darted behind a tree.
    â€œYou frightened her, Jonathan!” Abigail scolded. “No need to worry, Hester,” she called to her friend. “It is only my brother.”
    But the little girl did not come out from behind thetree. “She must be afraid of boys,” Abigail said. She hurried behind the tree to look for the girl.
    A second later Abigail reappeared, bewildered. “She is gone!” she told her brother. “She disappeared! And we were having so much fun together.”
    â€œAbby—who is she?” asked Jonathan.
    â€œShe told me her name is Hester,” Abigail answered. “She is very nice.”
    â€œWhere does she live?”
    Abigail shrugged. “She did not say. But I hope she comes back. It was so pleasant to have someone to play with.”
    Jonathan wondered who this playmate could possibly be. Did she live in Wickham? Could there still be living people in the village?
    What a mystery!
    The next day, as Jonathan was digging a grave for a baby, Abigail had wandered off to find a stick for a marker. When Jonathan finished digging the hole, Abigail still had not returned.
    She may be playing with her friend again, Jonathan thought. I think I will watch them for a few minutes and see what I can learn about that strange girl.
    He crept over to the big house, but the girls were not there. He found them playing in the graveyard.
    Ducking behind a grave slab, he leaned against the cold stone and spied on them.
    Hester twirled around and laughed. She has a pretty, bell-like laugh, Jonathan thought. Just then Hester took Abigail’s hand, and the two girls wove a path through the gravestones.
    Hester stopped before a hole in the ground. She reached down to tug at something in the hole. Up came the lid of a coffin.
    Jonathan stood frozen, watching.
    Hester stepped into the coffin and reached up for Abigail’s hand.
    Abigail touched Hester’s hand.
    With a firm jerk, Hester pulled Abigail into the coffin.

Chapter 6

    â€œA bigail—no!” Jonathan shouted. He burst from his hiding place and ran to the grave.
    I must get her out of there! he thought, his heart pounding. I must save her.
    He stopped at the edge of the hole, stared down, and—
    Abigail popped up out of the coffin, laughing.
    Furious, Jonathan grabbed her arms and yanked his little sister out of the coffin. “Stop playing foolish games,” he scolded angrily. “We have to go home now.”
    â€œBut, Jonathan, Hester and I—”
    Refusing to listen to her protests, he pulled her along behind him.
    We must get away from here, he thought, forgetting the other girl.
    Abigail dragged her feet and glanced back at Hester.“Why do we have to go home?” she