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"All right, my lovely countess," replied Mollie. "Ghosts or no ghosts, we will do our best. But don't count on me for much merriment. I'm a dreadful coward." Mollie looked over her shoulder with a shudder.
The countess and Grace laughed, but quickly their laugh died.
The sound of weird music floated up through the dark hall. Their hostess, Miss Thorne, was playing the tall harp that stood in the parlor.
"Goodness!" cried Miss Sallie, "what will that poor soul do next? I should not be in the least surprised if the entire departed family were given places at supper to-night." Which was exactly what happened. Four empty chairs were left at the table.
"Miss Thorne," said Mr. Stuart, when they were all seated, "could you not be persuaded to visit the outer world? It would give my sister and me much pleasure if you would spend a few days with us at Palm Beach."
A spark of pleasure lit up the hostess's faded eyes for an instant. Then she shook her head sadly.
"You are most kind, sir, but I am much needed at home. Lucy, my sister, is quite delicate, you see. And Mama is an invalid."
Miss Sallie touched her brother's foot under the table, as a signal to keep away from dangerous topics. But what topic was not dangerous?
"How charmingly you play the harp, Miss Thorne," ventured the countess, when they had somewhat recovered themselves.
"Ah," exclaimed the poor woman, smiling archly, "you must praise the right person, my dear. It was my sister Lucy who was playing."
Miss Sallie dropped her fork with a loud clatter, while Mollie slipped her hand into the countess's and the other three girls linked their feet under the table, girl fashion.
Jim, who, in an old black coat, was waiting on the table, smiled grimly and mumbled to himself.
"But, young ladies," cried Miss Thorne, "you are not eating."
As a matter of fact the supper was delicious; biscuits as light as snow flakes, broiled sea trout, potatoes roasted in their jackets and preserves in delicate cut gla.s.s bowls. But who could enjoy a banquet under such conditions? The two candles seemed to accentuate the blackness of the shadows which gathered at the edges of the room. The guests tried to laugh and talk, but gradually gloomy silence settled upon them. Miss Thorne appeared to have forgotten where she was and Mr.
Stuart observing the uneasiness of the whole party remarked that as they had had a long day it would be well to retire early.
As they were about to rise from the table a sudden exclamation from the countess who sat at the lower end of the table caused all eyes to turn toward her in startled inquiry. She was staring at the open window in fascinated terror, unable for the moment to do anything save point to the opening which was swathed in shadows.
"A horrible old man!" she at last managed to articulate. "I saw him looking in at us!"
"What old man?" demanded Mr. Stuart.
"He was white haired and looked like a great ape," she gasped.
"Why that's the man whom I drove out of your room the other night, Countess," exclaimed Bab. "What can his object be in following you?"
"Come, my man," commanded Mr. Stuart, turning to the engineer who sat beside him, "and you too, Jim, we'll search the grounds. I believe that this formidable old man can tell us something about the wrecking of the engine. Let's get after him at once!"
Old Jim lost no time in procuring lanterns, and a thorough search of the grounds was made. The women meantime remained in the dining room, but now that the first effects of their fright had worn off, they prepared to give their fearsome intruder a warm reception should he again show himself. Madame de Villiers moved her chair to one side of the open window, her heavy cane in both hands, ready for instant use. While Barbara took up her station at the other side grasping firmly the heavy silver teapot that had been in the Thorne family for generations. Ruth guarded the door at one end, brandishing ferociously a heavy carving knife she had appropriated from a set on the old fashioned side-board, while Mollie, bravely, held the fort, at the other door with the fork.
The countess half laughing, half shuddering, clung to a heavy cut gla.s.s water bottle, while Miss Sallie had prepared to meet the enemy with a huge bottle of cayenne pepper, which she had taken from the old-fashioned silver castor.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Countess Pointed Toward the Open Window.]
"There is nothing like being prepared," said Ruth with a hysterical laugh, after ten minutes had pa.s.sed, and the enemy had not shown himself. "I'm going to get a chair and be comfortable." Mollie followed suit, and the watchers sat valiantly alert, as the minutes dragged by.
Miss Thorne chattered voluably to and about her family, paying very little attention to her strangely-behaved guests, while Chloe, the old servant, huddled in one corner, her eyes rolling with fright at every sound she heard.
At last the welcome sound of men's voices was heard and Mr. Stuart, followed by the engineer and old Jim, entered at Mollie's door.
"What kind of desperado organization is this?" he exclaimed, laughing in spite of himself at the ludicrous appearance this feminine vigilant committee made.
"It's war to the knife," cried Ruth.
"And the fork, too, I should say," laughed her father, "also the teapot, and--what on earth are you cherishing so fondly, Sallie?"
"Cayenne pepper," responded Miss Sallie, "and I consider myself well armed, at that."
"I should rather think so," agreed her brother. "However you are all safe in laying down your arms, for we have searched diligently, and can find no trace of the intruder. He evidently heard the countess and made a quick get away. You must pardon us, Madam, for stirring up your quiet home in this manner," he said, bowing to Miss Thorne. "I trust we shall meet with no further disagreeable adventures."
"You have not disturbed either Lucy or me in the least," declared the demented old woman graciously. "As for Papa and Mama they dearly love to have visitors." She smiled sweetly and at once began a one-sided conversation with her departed parents.
"Do take us away from her," whispered Ruth to her father. "She has been addressing the shades of her family ever since you left us, and it's getting on our nerves."
"With your kind permission, Miss Thorne, we shall retire," said Mr.
Stuart, and the seven tired women gladly followed him through the shadowy hall and up the wide stairs, to their respective sleeping rooms.
CHAPTER XVII
THE MIDNIGHT INTRUDER
Once in their rooms the drooping spirits of the picnickers revived, somewhat. It was a fine night, the air warm and fragrant. The windows of the sleeping rooms were wide open and the moonlight streamed across the floor, filling the whole place with its soft radiance.
"Oh look!" cried Grace, going over to the open window. "What a darling balcony! I believe the other rooms all open out on it too. Good-bye,"
she called to Mollie and the countess, as she stepped nimbly over the sill. "I'm going to make a call."
Grace had hardly disappeared, before the countess went quickly to the door, closed it, then came back to Mollie, her finger on her lip.
Drawing Mollie over to one corner of the room, where they could not be observed from the outside, the countess whispered. "Mademoiselle Mollie, I believe you love me and trust me, even more than do your friends, and because of this I am going to ask you to do me a very great favor."
Mollie's blue eyes looked lovingly up into the dark eyes of the countess. So fervent was her feeling of adoration for this fascinating stranger that she was prepared to grant any favor that lay within her power. "I should dearly love to help you in any way I can," she said earnestly. "You make me very, very happy."
The countess kissed her.
"Dear child," she continued, "the thing I am going to ask seems simple enough, but some day you will understand how much it means to me. Wait a moment," she added almost under her breath. "There is some one whom I hold in such dread that, even in this desolate and far-away place, he or his confederate might be listening."
She looked about her cautiously, then went to the window and anxiously scanned the balcony. It was quite empty. Her eyes searched the long avenue leading to the grove that looked like a huge black spot in the moonlight. Then she returned to Mollie and said softly, "I am not afraid of ghosts, and neither are you, Mollie, I am sure, because there are no such things; but this place fills me with foreboding. It is so lonesome, so utterly dismal. What was that? I thought I heard a noise below. Did you hear anything?"
"Perhaps it was Jim closing up for the night," replied Mollie, pressing close to the countess for comfort. "But what was the favor? I will do anything for you."
"This is it," answered the countess, her voice again dropping to a whisper. "Will you, for a few days, carry a paper for me? It is a very dangerous paper, dangerous, that is, because some one else wishes it, but it is a very valuable one to me because I may need it, and if you will keep it safely hidden until I do need it, you will not only be doing me a service but Mademoiselle Warren also."
Mollie looked puzzled. The countess's words were shrouded in mystery.
"Does it concern the Count de Sonde, too?" she asked breathlessly.