“Out of the house, do you mean?” she asked, with an uncontrollable start. “Yes, missus, after de ladies’ dinner, at half-past seven, Chloe an’ me an’ Amelia Jane goes to our own house.” “But we can’t stay all alone, Salome! If we wanted anything in the night----” said Andria, aghast now in good earnest. “De ladies ring de bell,” returned the woman anxiously. “Dat’s de only way.” “May I come and see? I’d like to.” Salome chuckled. She led the way through what seemed half a mile of empty rooms and disused pantries into the kitchen; from its barred and grated window Andria saw a paved courtyard, with a high wall on two sides, on the third a stone house. “Oh, you’re not far! I could run to you.” “Please don’t, missus! Ring de bell; we’ll do de running,” said Salome anxiously. “Then you’re not afraid to cross the courtyard in the dark?” she asked, with sudden quickness. Salome looked nervously at the courtyard wall. “No, missus,” she answered. “Colored people ain’t got time to be frightened o’ de dark.” Andria remembered what the woman had said about her black skin protecting her. What could she have meant? By the time she was back in the drawing-room again she saw Salome had been right about the darkness. It had dropped on the world like a curtain the instant the sun vanished. There were no blinds to the windows, and in the lamplight after dinner the dark squares of them were like blind eyes. As the two lonely girls sat talking, each, without telling the other, felt a growing dislike to those black windows, through which the darkness of the shut-up veranda showed like a solid wall. By degrees a curious quietude fell on the two. How silent the house was, and how silent the night outside. “Andria,” said Beryl softly, “have the servants gone to their funny little house? Who puts out these lights?” “I do. We leave the hall lights burning, Salome said.” Beryl gave a sudden shiver. “Let’s go to bed! I don’t like it here in this room.” “Don’t you? Why?” The girl, with an infinitesimal movement of her finger, pointed to the unblinded windows. “Those!” she whispered. “I feel as if some one were looking in.” So did Andria. A dreadful feeling that they were watched had come on her as they talked. Brave as she was, she would have given a good deal to have had her back to the wall instead of those windows, that might suddenly splinter and crash in. “That’s nonsense!” she said, more to herself than Beryl. “The jalousies are shut; no one could see in.” “They could--through the slats!” “You goose, there isn’t any one within miles!” If Andria’s quick laugh jarred a little, Beryl did not notice it as the elder girl extinguished the lamps. “Come along to bed--you’re getting nervous,” she commanded; and purposely blundered against a chair in the dark.