"I don't know; it may have been. Seeing a window, through which a little dim light came in, I halted at it to consider what was to be done, and how I should best find my way down. While thus standing a something black--I cannot tell you what it was--brushed swiftly and silently past me, and disappeared in the deeper darkness beyond." "Something black!" repeated Ella, feeling an awe she could scarcely account for. "Ay. The figure--it was human, I conclude, but whether male or female I can scarcely tell, though I think the latter, because the skirts of the garment it wore touched my gown in passing--the figure, I say, just showed itself to me, and was gone." "Did you hear no footsteps, Aunt Gertrude?" "None whatever. I was so startled that, for a few moments, I could not stir or think. Then I rushed along the corridors, haphazard, and came straight upon a staircase. Instinct comes to our aid in these moments of perplexity more often than we think," broke off Mrs. Carlyon. "Aunt, it must have been one of the servant-girls," spoke Ella, finding relief in the idea. "No, no, no," emphatically pronounced Mrs. Carlyon. "Not so, child. I ran down the staircase, not knowing or caring whither it might lead me," she continued, "and along the passage at its foot, and found myself close to the large kitchen. Aaron sat smoking his pipe over the fire; within the open door of another room I saw the two maids seated at work by candlelight, old Dorothy inspecting its progress through her spectacles. How I managed not to run into them with my fear, I can hardly tell; but I controlled it, and came on to you. Now you know all, Ella." Miss Winter felt both puzzled and annoyed. She knew not what to think. Had it been a servant who told the story, she would have said at once that the girl had been the victim of her own foolish fancies; but in the case of a woman like Mrs. Carlyon no such belief was possible. Who and what could it have been? Had it anything to do with the strange disappearance of Katherine Keen--and with the superstitious reports that arose afterwards? "This had better not be spoken of, aunt," said Ella. "No, indeed," quickly assented Mrs. Carlyon. "But you won't find me going upstairs alone, at dusk again. All the wealth of the Indies would not tempt me to live through a winter in this dreadful old house." CHAPTER VII. THE MISTRESS OF HERON DYKE.