Part 33 (1/2)
”Hold your tongue!” cried the doctor, so fiercely that Davy collapsed in scared silence, and gave his undivided attention to the trail of the lost ghost.
They led the way through the tangle to the stump where the specter had been enthroned. Some matches and a half-burned candle, dropped hastily upon the moss, testified to the correctness of their discovery. Then, taking the lantern, Tim led on through the dense underbrush, past black pools of water, over fallen logs, and back to the road again, whither they had fled from Sawed-Off's swift vengeance.
But the ghost had apparently vanished in true ghost fas.h.i.+on. Gilbert took the lantern and carefully went over the ground again. With the two boys close at his heels, he scrambled about, here and there, pus.h.i.+ng through the cedars, clambering over rotten tree-trunks, and leaping pools of black water. They were soon deeper in the yielding swamp than was quite safe, and the leader was forced to suggest returning without their prize. He climbed upon a mossy stump, and swung his lantern in a circle for a last survey. The light flashed far into the wild, tangled wilderness, and revealed a white object hanging over a low cedar. Tim gave a whoop of joy and pounced upon it.
”It's him! It's Mr. Ghost!” he shouted jubilantly. The rustle of silk proclaimed that the specter still contained the wedding gown. The doctor glanced over it in the light of the lantern; it was apparently undamaged, except for a few spots of mud. To the boys' surprise, he rolled it up with great care and bundled it under his arm.
”Come, now, let's get back,” he said, with a look of pleased relief.
”And look out where you jump. If either of you young Turks tumbles in, I'll leave you for the banshee, and serve you right!”
They were standing for a moment, looking for the best way to retrace their steps, when out of the black silence behind them there came a faint, far-off cry.
Tim clutched the doctor's coat. Davy turned white.
”Wha'--what's that?” they whispered together.
The three stood motionless, listening, and again the sound arose. It came from the far-off edge of the Drowned Lands, faint, and full of agony, like a human voice calling for help.
”The _banshee_!” whispered Tim in terror.
”Oh, Lord save us!” groaned Davy.
In spite of his concern, Gilbert laughed. ”It's somebody caught in the mud, you young idiots!” he cried. ”Listen!”
Once more the cry came floating out, terrible in its appeal. ”Help, h-e-l-p!” it called faintly.
Davy gave a leap. ”That's her! That's the banshee!” he gasped. ”Come on! _Run_! It always calls folks like that--into the Drowned Lands--an' they never come back! _Run_!”
”Shut up, you fool!” cried Gilbert sharply. ”Listen to me. You two get back to the road as quickly as you can. Come! I'll show you out with the light.”
”Are--are you goin' after her?” whispered Davy, horror-stricken.
”Of course! Look here! I thought you two fellows had a little more snap in you than to get scared at a man calling for help.”
”I'll go with you an' pull him out,” cried Tim, stung into valor by this crus.h.i.+ng remark.
”Me, too!” cried Davy with a gulp. It was awful to contemplate following that ghostly voice away into the death trap of the Drowned Lands; but it was worse to remain there alone.
”No; you'd likely get mired, and cause more trouble. Get back to the road, quick, and wait for me there. If I need your help, I'll call.”
The cry arose again, this time fainter and more agonized. ”Hurry!”
cried the young man. ”Here, Tim! Take this, and don't lose it again, for the life of you!”
He handed the boy the wedding dress, and hurried them forward until they were beyond the perilous area of the swamp. There he left them, and turning, plunged back into the woods.
Through the dense tangle, leaping from moss-clump to fallen log, he forced his way, the lantern, like a swaying will-o'-the-wisp, now casting a red splash on the surface of a pool, now leaving it in blackness, to light up a new circle of vine and stump and riotous undergrowth.
The two left behind stood for a moment gazing after him in terrified dismay. While he was with them his scorn of their fears, and his practical explanation of the dread sound, had acted like a stimulant; but now that they were left alone in the darkness they gave way to their worst apprehensions. He was gone! Gone straight to his doom, at the call of that luring voice, as so many before him had gone! And no one ever came back! Davy sank to the ground in a sobbing heap. Tim, more inured to disaster, stood silent, his small face white and fear-stricken.