They now conversed in anxious whispers, and almost all they said consisted in anxious wishes for the return of the brothers and Mr. Marchdale. “You will be happier and more assured, my dear, with some company,” said Mrs. Bannerworth. “Shall I ring for the servants, and let them remain in the room with us, until they who are our best safeguards next to Heaven return?” “Hush—hush—hush, mother!” “What do you hear?” “I thought—I heard a faint sound.” “I heard nothing, dear.” “Listen again, mother. Surely I could not be deceived so often. I have now, at least, six times heard a sound as if some one was outside by the windows.” “No, no, my darling, do not think; your imagination is active and in a state of excitement.” “It is, and yet——” “Believe me, it deceives you.” “I hope to Heaven it does!” There was a pause of some minutes’ duration, and then Mrs. Bannerworth again urged slightly the calling of some of the servants, for she thought that their presence might have the effect of giving a different direction to her child’s thoughts; but Flora saw her place her hand upon the bell, and she said,— “No, mother, no—not yet, not yet. Perhaps I am deceived.” Mrs. Bannerworth upon this sat down, but no sooner had she done so than she heartily regretted she had not rung the bell, for, before another word could be spoken, there came too perceptibly upon their ears for there to be any mistake at all about it, a strange scratching noise upon the window outside. A faint cry came from Flora’s lips, as she exclaimed, in a voice of great agony,— “Oh, God!—oh, God! It has come again!” Mrs. Bannerworth became faint, and unable to move or speak at all; she could only sit like one paralysed, and unable to do more than listen to and see what was going on. The scratching noise continued for a few seconds, and then altogether ceased. Perhaps, under ordinary circumstances, such a sound outside the window would have scarcely afforded food for comment at all, or, if it had, it would have been attributed to some natural effect, or to the exertions of some bird or animal to obtain admittance to the house. But there had occurred now enough in that family to make any little sound of wonderful importance, and these things which before would have passed completely unheeded, at all events without creating much alarm, were now invested with a fearful interest. When the scratching noise ceased, Flora spoke in a low, anxious whisper, as she said,— “Mother, you heard it then?” Mrs. Bannerworth tried to speak, but she could not; and then suddenly, with a loud clash, the bar, which on the inside appeared to fasten the shutters strongly, fell as if by some invisible agency, and the shutters now, but for the intervention of the window, could be easily pushed open from without. Mrs. Bannerworth covered her face with her hands, and, after rocking to and fro for a moment, she fell off her chair, having fainted with the excess of terror that came over her.