Strange to say, however, as the moon waned, our horror faded, so that we almost began to hope the thing was at an end, and to trust that in time we should forget about it. And we congratulated ourselves that we had kept our own counsel and not disturbed any of the others--even father, who would, no doubt, have hooted at the idea--by the baleful whisper that our charming castle by the sea was haunted! And the days passed by, growing into weeks. The second detachment of our guests had left, and a third had just arrived, when one morning as I was waiting at what we called "the sea-door" for some of the others to join me in a walk along the sands, some one touched me on the shoulder. It was Philip. "Leila," he said, "I am not happy about Dormer. He is looking ill again, and----" "I thought he seemed so much stronger," I said, surprised and distressed, "quite rosy, and so much merrier." "So he was till a few days ago," said Philip. "But if you notice him well you'll see that he's getting that white look again. And--I've got it into my head--he is an extraordinarily sensitive child, that it has something to do with the moon. It's getting on to the full." For the moment I stupidly forgot the association. "Really, Phil," I said, "you are too absurd! Do you actually--oh," as he was beginning to interrupt me, and my face fell, I feel sure--"you don't mean about the gallery." "Yes, I do," he said. "How? Has Dormy told you anything?" and a sort of sick feeling came over me. "I had begun to hope," I went on, "that somehow it had gone; that, perhaps, it only comes once a year at a certain season, or possibly that newcomers see it at the first and not again. Oh, Phil, we _can't_ stay here, however nice it is, if it is really haunted." "Dormy hasn't said much," Philip replied. "He only told me he had _felt the cold_ once or twice, 'since the moon came again,' he said. But I can see the fear of more is upon him. And this determined me to speak to you. I have to go to London for ten days or so, to see the doctors about my leave, and a few other things. I don't like it for you and Miss Larpent if--if this thing is to return--with no one else in your confidence, especially on Dormy's account. Do you think we must tell father before I go?" I hesitated. For many reasons I was reluctant to do so. Father would be exaggeratedly sceptical at first, and then, if he were convinced, as I _knew_ he would be, he would go to the other extreme and insist upon leaving Finster, and there would be a regular upset, trying for mother and everybody concerned. And mother liked the place, and was looking so much better!