But the sister, Susan, had a tale to tell, and it was a curious one. It appeared that that same morning she had met Katherine in the village, doing an errand for Miss Winter. Susan told her that a letter had come from their brother--a young man older than themselves, who had gone some years before to an uncle in Australia--and that she would bring it to the Hall that evening. However, when evening came, snow began to fall, and Mrs. Keen would not let Susan go out in it, for she had a cold. Presently the snow ceased, and Susan, wrapping her cloak about her, started with the letter. As she neared the Hall the clock struck nine--too late for Susan to attempt to call, for after that hour her visits were interdicted. She hovered about a short while, thinking that haply she might see one of the housemaids hastening home from some errand, and could send in the letter by her, or perhaps catch a glimpse of her darling sister at her window. The sky was clear then, the moon shining brilliantly on the snowy ground. As Susan stood there, a light appeared in Katherine's room. She fancied she saw the curtain pulled momentarily aside, but she saw no more. While thus watching, Susan was startled by a cry, or scream of terror; two screams, the last very faint, but following close upon the other. They appeared to come from inside the house, Susan thought from inside the room, and were in her sister's voice--of that Susan felt an absolute certainty. A little thing served to terrify her. She ran back home as she had never run before, and burst into her mother's kitchen in a pitiable state. Mrs. Keen and two or three people sitting in the inn took it for granted that the cry must have been that of some night-bird, and the terrified girl was got to bed. With the morning, news was brought to the inn of Katherine's strange disappearance; and, as already said, she had never been heard of from that day. Nothing could shake Susan's belief that it was her sister's screams she had heard; she declared she knew her voice too well to be mistaken. The event had a sad effect upon her mind: at times she seemed almost half-witted. She could not be persuaded but that Katherine was still in the house at Heron Dyke; and as often as she could escape her mother's vigilance, she would steal up in the dark and hover about outside, looking at the windows for Katherine--nay, more than once believing that she saw her appear at one of them. Such was the occurrence that had served to shake Miss Winter's nerves, and that she was on her way now to the vicarage to be (as she well knew) cross-questioned about.