Suddenly Mrs. Brigham as she sewed glanced at the opposite wall. The
glance became a steady stare. She looked intently, her work suspended in
her hands. Then she looked away again and took a few more stitches, then
she looked again, and again turned to her task. At last she laid her
work in her lap and stared concentratedly. She looked from the wall
round the room, taking note of the various objects. Then she turned to
her sisters.
"What _is_ that?" said she.
"What?" asked Caroline harshly.
"That strange shadow on the wall," replied Mrs. Brigham.
Rebecca sat with her face hidden; Caroline dipped her pen in the
inkstand.
"Why don't you turn around and look?" asked Mrs. Brigham in a wondering
and somewhat aggrieved way.
"I am in a hurry to finish this letter," replied Caroline shortly.
Mrs. Brigham rose, her work slipping to the floor, and began walking
round the room, moving various articles of furniture, with her eyes on
the shadow.
Then suddenly she shrieked out:
"Look at this awful shadow! What is it? Caroline, look, look! Rebecca,
look! What is it?"
All Mrs. Brigham's triumphant placidity was gone. Her handsome face was
livid with horror. She stood stiffly pointing at the shadow.
Then after a shuddering glance at the wall Rebecca burst out in a wild
wail.
"Oh, Caroline, there it is again, there it is again!"
"Caroline Glynn, you look!" said Mrs. Brigham. "Look! What is that
dreadful shadow?"
Caroline rose, turned, and stood confronting the wall.
"How should I know?" she said.
"It has been there every night since he died!" cried Rebecca.
"Every night?"
"Yes; he died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three nights,"
said Caroline rigidly. She stood as if holding her calm with a vise of
concentrated will.
"It--it looks like--like--" stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of intense
horror.
"I know what it looks like well enough," said Caroline. "I've got eyes
in my head."
"It looks like Edward," burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear.
"Only----"
"Yes, it does," assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone
matched her sisters', "only--Oh, it is awful! What is it, Caroline?"
"I ask you again, how should I know?" replied Caroline. "I see it there
like you. How should I know any more than you?"
"It _must_ be something in the room," said Mrs. Brigham, staring wildly
around.
"We moved everything in the room the first night it came," said Rebecca;
"it is not anything in the room."
Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury. "Of course it is something
in the room," said she. "How you act! What do you mean talking so? Of
course it is something in the room."
"Of course it is," agreed Mrs. Brigham, looking at Caroline
suspiciously. "It must be something in the room."
"It is not anything in the room," repeated Rebecca with obstinate
horror.
The door opened suddenly and Henry Glynn entered. He began to speak,
then his eyes followed the direction of the others. He stood staring at
the shadow on the wall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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