The Haunted Homestead Part 33

Hoo-oo-o----!

Oh! the wailing voice of some low, wandering wind, I concluded.

Whirirr-rr-r-r----!

Yes! the wind is rising, but how like a lost spirit it wails.

Urr-rr-rr-r-r-r----!

My Lord! it's not the wind! What is it? Great Heavens!

Urr-rr-rr-rr-r-r-r-r!

I started up in a sitting posture, and, bathed in a cold perspiration, remained listening, my hair bristling with terror.

Urr-rr-rr-rr-r-r-r-r--"Ha--ha--ha!"

I could bear no more! Springing out, I called:

"Grandmother! Grandmother!"

"What's the matter? Why, what ails the child?" exclaimed Mrs. Hawkins.

"Oh! listen! listen!"

"Listen at what? You are dreaming!"

"Dreaming, am I? Oh! wait! Listen----"

Urr-rr-rr-r-r-r-r--"Ha!--ha!--ha!"

It was, as plainly as I ever heard, the sound of the rolling of a ball, followed by a peal of demoniac laughter.

I turned on Mrs. Hawkins an appalled look.

She was surprised, but self-possessed, and evidently bent on calmly listening and investigating. She sat straight up in bed with a strong, concentrated attention to the sounds. They came again:

Urr-rr-rr-r-r-r-r-e--rattle-te-bang!--"A ten-strike at last!--O's a dead shot!"

"A dead shot."

"A dead shot," was echoed all around.

Grandmother calmly threw the quilts off her, stepped out of bed, and began to dress herself.

"Strike a light, Madeleine," she said.

"What are you going to do, grandmother?"

"Dress myself and examine the premises."

Urr-rr-rr-r-r-r-r--"Ha! ha! ha!" sounded once more the demoniac noise and laughter.

The matchbox nearly dropped from my shaking hands, but I struck the light.

The sudden flash awoke Alice just as another sonorous roll of the ball, and fall of the pins, and peal of demon laughter, sounded hollowly around us.

"Heaven and earth! what is that?" she exclaimed, starting up.

"What do you think it is, Alice?" said I.

"My Lord! my Lord!--it is the phantoms of the murderer and the murdered playing over again their last game!" cried the girl, in an agony of terror.

Just at this moment a distinct knocking was heard at the little door at the foot of the staircase.

Alice screamed.

I held my breath.

The knocking was repeated.

"Who is there?" said Mrs. Hawkins, going to the head of the stairs.

No answer; but the knocking was repeated; and then a frightened, plaintive voice, crying:

"Ole mist'ess--ole mist'ess--oh! do, for the Lord sake, let me in, chile! the hair's almos' turn gray on my head."

"Is that you, Ca.s.sy?"

"Yes, honey--yes, what the ghoses has left o' me," replied the poor creature, in a dying voice.

Grandmother went down the stairs and opened the door at the foot, and Ca.s.sy came tumbling up into the room after her. She was absolutely ashen gray with terror, and her limbs shook so that she could scarcely stand.

"Oh! did you hear--did you hear all the ghoses and devils playing ninepins together in our very house?" she gasped, dropping into a chair.

As if in answer to her question, once more the phantom ball rolled in detonating thunder, the pins fell with a loud, rattling sound, followed by a hollow shout of triumph!

Ca.s.sy fell on her knees and crossed herself devoutly.

Alice clung in terror to her grandmother.

I felt that the time to play the heroine was come, and strove to exhibit self-possession and courage.

"Take up the candle, Ca.s.sy, and lead the way downstairs. We must go and search the house," said Mrs. Hawkins.

"Oh! for the Lord's sake, don't! don't! old mist'ess, honey! Don't be a temptin' o' Providence! Leave the ghoses alone and stay here, and fasten the door."

"I shall search the house and grounds," said Mrs. Hawkins, in a peremptory voice. "Therefore, take up the light and go before me."