"Oh, I think he heard them," said the doctor. "Bell rarely drinks enough to cloud his faculties, And he is certainly not fanciful."
"But how, Uncle Hugh," put in Frank, "you cannot seriously think that there's anything in it!"
"Anything in what?"
"In this superstition. Of course one can readily understand that a flock of birds may fly over a place by night, as well as by day; and that they may give out sounds and cries on the way. But that these cries should forebode evil to those who may hear them, is not to be credited for a moment."
Dr. Raynor nodded. He was languidly eating an egg. For some time past, appetite had failed him.
"I say, Uncle Hugh, that you cannot believe in such nonsense. You admitted that the incidents you gave just now were mere coincidences."
"Frank," returned the doctor, in his quiet tone, that