Mrs. Vand sat and shivered in the dining-room also. She lighted three
lamps, and although the evening was warm, she set fire to the coals and
wood in the large, old-fashioned grate. It seemed to her that she could
not have enough light or warmth to ward off the cold, malicious
influence, which seemed to spread a sinister atmosphere throughout the
vast room. Shivering at the head of the table, Mrs. Vand kept casting
furtive looks here and there, as though she expected to see the
blood-stained figure of her murdered brother appear like Banquo's
spectre. Outside the twilight gradually deepened to luminous darkness,
and although she had finished her tea, she did not feel inclined to move
about the gloomy passages. Again and again, she wished that Henry would
return.
At nine o'clock her nerves were still shaky, and she felt that she could
not stand the dining-room any longer. Ringing the bell, she took a lamp
in each hand, and told Sarah--who entered speedily--to take the other.
The two women proceeded to the drawing-room, and Mrs. Vand, having
pulled down the blinds, ordered Sarah to bring her work and sit beside
her. The servant was only too pleased to obey, and for the next
half-hour the two sat in pleasant gossiping confabulation, Mrs. Vand
knitting a silk tie for her husband, and Sarah trimming a wonderful hat
with aggressively brilliant flowers. There was no noise, as the wind had
dropped, and everything was intensely still. Mrs. Vand and Sarah
chattered incessantly to keep up their courage in the ghostly
atmosphere. Suddenly--
"Listen!" said Mrs. Vand, raising her hand. "Do you hear?"
Sarah turned white through her dingy skin, and held her breath. There
came distinctly the sound of three knocks from somewhere near the
fire-place; then a long, dreary sigh. The servant shrieked, and sprang
for the door. But Mrs. Vand was after her in one moment, and seized her.
"Hold your tongue, you fool! It's only rats."
As if to give the lie to her statement, there came the swish, swish of
silken skirts, and then the sigh again. This was too much for Mrs. Vand.
She scuttled panic-stricken into the hall, followed by the shrieking
Sarah. At the same moment, as though it had been prearranged, the front
door opened and Vand appeared.
"Oh, Henry! Henry!" gasped his wife, and clung to him.
The young man shook her off. "What is the matter?" he asked in calm
tones. But Mrs. Vand being too terrified to answer, Sarah did so for
her. "The ghost! the ghost! the ghost!"
"What rubbish!" said Vand, easily; "there is no ghost, you silly girl,
and if there is, here is one who can lay it."
He stepped aside, and Granny Tunks, lean and weird-looking, appeared at
the door. She had a white cloak over her fantastic dress, and looked
more witch-like than ever. Mrs. Vand stared at the woman in surprise.
"Why have you left your grandson?" she asked, and glancing at Henry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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