Her ears had caught the sound of a soft foot-fall approaching, accompanied by the slight _swish_ of a trailing garment along the floor. The sound drew nearer. Horror of horrors! What is this? No radiant form of light now! but a demon of darkness from the pit! a tall figure shrouded in black from head to foot, with a muffled face of which nothing could be seen but a pair of fierce, dark eyes that seemed to shine and gleam by their own fires! Em.’s blood curdled in her heart; she tried to cry out! to spring up! to fly for her life! but she could neither move, speak, nor breathe! The terrible form drew nearer, stood beside her pallet, stooped over her. That was too much, and the girl swooned with horror. CHAPTER III THE RED WING Face to face with the true mountains, Standing silently and still, Drawing strength from fancy’s dauntings, From the air about the hill, And from nature’s open mercies, And most debonair good will. E. B. BROWNING. When Em. recovered her consciousness it was broad daylight, and the old hall and the woods around it were full of the jubilant sounds of awakening life. John and his two boys had slipped out to wash and dress themselves in the back premises, leaving the hall to the sole possession of the women and girls. Em. instantly recollected her frightful vision of the night; but, true to her resolution of silence on the subject of the haunted house, she refrained from speaking of it, while she inwardly thanked Heaven that she had passed her very last night in the ghostly hall. She arose with alacrity, rolled up her pallet, and put it out of the way, dressed herself and began to assist her mother in clearing up the hall for breakfast. It was a lively scene, like the general getting up in the morning from the cabin of a steamboat. “Why, my girl, you overdid yourself yesterday, you did! You look as pale as a ghost this morning! Just go and sit down in that arm-chair, and don’t attempt to do a hand’s turn to-day,” said Susan Palmer on seeing her daughter’s pallid countenance and languid air. But Em. declared that she was able to work, and begged to be allowed to do her share. The hall was quickly set in order. John and the boys brought in wood and water; old Monica kindled the fire; Mrs. Whitlock filled the kettle; Susan Palmer set the table; and Em. cut the bread and meat. As “many hands make labor light,” the breakfast was soon prepared, and, with the keen appetite bestowed by the pure mountain air, it was soon consumed.