Part 15 (2/2)
”Perhaps it is one of the servants moon-struck or love-lorn. Myra looks sentimental, and is always singing:--
”I'm waiting, waiting, darling, Morning, night, and noon; Oh, meet me by the river When softly s.h.i.+nes the moon.”
”It's not Myra; I asked her, and she turned pale at the mere idea of going anywhere alone after dark, and said cook had seen a banshee gliding down the Lady's Walk one night, when she got up for camphor, having the face-ache. I said no more, not wanting to scare them; ignorant people are so superst.i.tious.”
Sally paused, and the girls all tried not to look ”scared” or ”superst.i.tious,” but did not succeed very well.
”What are you going to do?” asked Nelly, in a respectful tone, as Julia and Sally stood side by side, like Horatius and Herminius waiting for a Spurius Lartius to join them.
”Watch, like cats for a mouse, and pounce as soon as possible. All promise to say nothing; then we can't be laughed at if it turns out some silly thing, as it probably will,” answered Sally.
”We promise!” solemnly answered the girls, feeling deeply impressed with the thrilling interest of the moment.
”Very well; now don't talk about it or think about it till we report, or no one will sleep a wink,” said Sally, walking off with her ally as coolly as if, after frightening them out of their wits, they could forget the matter at word of command.
The oath of silence was well kept, but lessons suffered, and so did sleep, for the excitement was great, especially in the morning, when the watchers reported the events of the night, and in the evening, when they took turns to go on guard. There was much whisking of dressing-gowns up and down the corridor of the west wing, where our six roomed, as the girls flew to ask questions early each day, or scurried to bed, glancing behind them for the banshee as they went.
Miss Orne observed the whispers, nods, and eager confabulations, but said nothing, for Madame had confided to her that the young ladies were planning a farewell gift for her. So she was blind and deaf, and smiled at the important airs of her girlish admirers.
Three or four days pa.s.sed, and no sign of the ghost appeared. The boldest openly scoffed at the false alarm, and the most timid began to recover from their fright.
Sally and Julia looked rather foolish as they answered, ”no news,”
morning after morning, to the inquiries which were rapidly losing the breathless eagerness so flattering to the watchers.
”You dreamed it, Sally. Go to sleep, and don't do it again,” said Nelly, on the fifth day, as she made her evening call and found the girls yawning and cross for want of rest.
”She has exercised too much, and produced a morbid state of the brain,”
laughed Maud.
”I just wish she wouldn't scare me out of my senses for nothing,”
grumbled Cordy; ”I used to sleep like a dormouse, and now I dream dreadfully and wake up tired out. Come along, Kit, and let the old ghosts carry off these silly creatures.”
”My regards to the Woman in White _when_ you see her again, dear,” added Kitty, as the four went off to laugh at the whole thing, though they carefully locked their doors and took a peep out of window before going to sleep.
”We may as well give it up and have a good rest. I'm worn out, and so are you, if you'd own it,” said Julia, throwing herself down for a nap before midnight.
”I shall _not_ give it up till I'm satisfied. Sleep away, I'll read awhile and call you if anything comes,” answered Sally, bound to prove the truth of her story if she waited all summer.
Julia was soon off, and the lonely watcher sat reading till past eleven; then put out her light and went to take a turn on the flat roof of the piazza that ran round the house, for the night was mild and the stars companionable. As she turned to come back, her sharp eye caught sight of something moving on the house-top as before, and soon, clear against the soft gloom of the sky, appeared the white figure flitting to and fro.
A long look, and then Sally made a rush at Julia, shaking her violently as she said in an excited whisper:
”Come! she is there. Quick! upstairs to the cupola; I have the candle and the key.”
Carried away by the other's vehemence Julia mutely obeyed, trembling, but afraid to resist; and noiseless as two shadows, they crept up the stairs, arriving just in time to see the ghost vanish over the edge of the roof, as if it had dissolved into thin air. Julia dropped down in a heap, desperately frightened, but Sally pulled her up and led her back to their room, saying, when she got there, with grim satisfaction, ”Did I dream it all? Now I hope they will believe me.”
”What was it? Oh, what could it be?” whimpered Julia, quite demoralized by the spectacle.
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