"It sounds as if it was in the hall," said Lady Davidstow. "Harry, will you open the door and see what it is?" "Yes, I'll go," he said firmly. "But--but shan't Archie come too?" The noise ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and with a pleasing sense of terror the two boys went to the drawing-room door and opened it. "But it's quite dark," said Archie. "Oh, mummy, what _is_ happening?" "I can't think. I only know one person who makes a noise the least like that." "Oh, is it Abracadabra?" asked Archie excitedly, finding that his scepticism of the day before had vanished like smoke. It had occurred to him that Abracadabra was his mother, but here was his mother telling them stories. "Well, the only time I ever heard her sneeze it was just like that," said Lady Davidstow. Archie came running back, shrieking with laughter. "And what does she do when she blows her nose?" he asked. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a piercing trumpet-blast sounded, and his mother got up. "She did it then," she whispered. "What had we better do? Shall we go into the hall? She would like us to be there to meet her, perhaps, if she's coming." She went to the door, followed by the children, and they all looked out into the black hall. The wood-fire in the hearth there had died down to a mere smoulder of red, which sent its illumination hardly farther than the stone fender-curb. "But there's something there," said Lady Davidstow in an awe-struck whisper. "There's something sitting in the chair." "Oh, mummy," said Archie, coming close to her. "I don't think I like it." "I'm sure there's nothing to be frightened at, Archie," said she. "Which of us shall go and see what it is?" There was no volunteer for this hazardous job, for now, with eyes more accustomed to the faint light, they could all see that it was not Something there, but Somebody. The outlines of a head, of a body, of legs all clothed in black, could be seen, and Somebody sat there perfectly still... Then all of a sudden the gong and the bell and the trumpet broke out into a clamour fit to wake the dead, the great chandelier in the hall flared into light, and the black figure sprang up, throwing its darkness behind it, and there, glittering with silks and gems and gold and the flowers of fairyland, stood Abracadabra. She had on a huge poke-bonnet which cast a shadow over her face, and left it terrifyingly vague. Her bonnet was trimmed with sunflowers and lilies of the valley, and round the edge of it went a row of diamonds which were quite as big as the drops in a glass chandelier. Another necklace of the same brilliance went round her throat and rested on a crimson satin bodice covered with gold. From her shoulders sprang spangled wings, and from below her skirt, with its garlands of roses, were silver shoes with diamond buckles. In her hand she carried a blue wand hung with bells, and by her side was a clothes-basket (such was its shape) made of gold. She stamped her foot with rage.