CHAPTER VI At Four o'Clock
The game grew more absorbing. Most of the party managed to store upenough courage by day to last well into the darker and more mysterioushours. It was at four in the morning that manifestations were oftenestnoticed. At that hour vague moanings and rustlings were reported by oneor another of the interested investigators, but no human agency was foundto account for these.
Many plans were tried for discovering the secret of the Room with theTassels, but all scrutiny failed to show any secret panel or concealedentrance. Indeed, their measurings and soundings proved there could notpossibly be any entrance to that room save the door from the hall.
Eve and Norma believed thoroughly in the actual haunt of the woman whohad poisoned her husband. They had no difficulty in swallowing whole allthe strange noises or sights and attributing them to supernatural causes.
Not so Gifford Bruce. He still held that it was all trickery, cleverlydone by some of the party, but as this was so clearly impossible, hisopinion carried no weight.
Professor Hardwick was open-minded, but exceedingly alert of observationand ready to suspect anybody who would give him the slightest reason todo so. Nobody did, however, and the weird sounds continued at intervals.The other men were noncommittal, saying they hadn't yet sufficient datato base conclusions on.
Milly was nervous and hysterical, but controlled her feelings at Landon'splea, and awaited developments with the rest. Vernie was merely anexcited child, gay with youthful spirits and ready to believe ordisbelieve whatever the others did.
Soon after Eve's experience, which no one, unless Gifford Bruce, doubted,Professor Hardwick slept in the haunted room. He had no results ofinterest to report. He said he had lain awake for a few hours and thenfell asleep not to waken until daylight. If the Shawled Woman prowledabout, he did not see or hear her. This was disappointing, but Tracytried with little better success. In the morning, after a wakeful butuneventful night, the clergyman found the old battered brass candlestickin the room.
It had not been there the night before, and he had locked the door as theothers had done. This was inexplicable, but of slight interest comparedto a real haunting.
"You might have made up a ghost story," Braye reproached him, "as UncleGifford did, and as Miss Carnforth--didn't!"
The last word was distinctly teasing and Eve frowned gaily at him, butdid not defend herself. She knew her experience had occurred just as shehad told it, and, deeply mystified, she was earnestly and eagerlyawaiting more light.
One day Braye found it necessary to go down to New York for a couple ofdays on some business matters. Before leaving, he made Vernie promise shewould not sleep alone in the haunted room while he was gone.
"I forbid it, child," he said. "Uncle Gif is so easy-going that I've nodoubt you could wheedle permission out of him, but I beg of you not to.You're too young to risk a nerve shock of that sort. If you want to tryit with Miss Carnforth or Miss Cameron, all right, but not alone. Promiseme, Flapper, and I'll bring you a pretty present from town day afterto-morrow."
Vernie laughingly gave the required promise, but it did not weigh heavilyon her conscience, for no sooner had Braye really gone, than she confidedto Mr. Tracy her indecision regarding the keeping of her word.
"Of course you'll keep your promise," and Tracy regarded her seriously."Nice people consider a spoken word inviolable. I know you, Vernie; youlike to talk at random, but I think you've an honourable nature."
So Vernie said nothing more to him, but she confided in Eve Carnforth herintention of sleeping in the Tasseled Room that very night.
Eve did not discourage her, and promised to tell no one.
The plan was easily carried out. As it was understood no one was sleepingin the haunted room, no special precautions were taken, save the usuallocking up against outside intruders. And after the great locks and boltswere fastened on doors and windows, it would have been a clever burglarindeed who could have effected an entrance to Black Aspens.
The evening had been pleasantly spent. Some trials of the Ouija board, afavourite diversion, had produced no interesting results, and ratherearly they all retired.
At midnight, Vernie softly rose, and went downstairs alone in thedarkness. A night lamp in the upper hall gave a faint glimmer belowstairs, but after the girl turned into the great hall the dark was almostimpenetrable.
Feeling her way, she came to the door of the room, softly entered it andwalked in. Passing her hands along the walls and the familiar furnishingsshe found the bed and lay down upon it. Her heart beat fast withexcitement but not with fear. She felt thrills of hope that the ghostwould appear and thrills of apprehension lest it should!
She had left the door to the hall open, and though it could scarcely becalled light, there was a mitigation of the darkness near the door. A notunpleasant drowsiness overcame her, and she half slept, waking every timethe clock struck in the hall.
At three, she smiled to herself, realizing that she was there, in theRoom with the Tassels, and felt no fear. "I hope something comes atfour,----" she thought sleepily, and closed her eyes again.
One--two--three--four--boomed the hall clock.
Vernie opened her eyes, only half conscious, and yet able to discern astrange chill in the air. Between her and the open door stood a tallgaunt shape, merely a shadow, for it was too dark to discern details. Hercalm forsook her; she shivered violently, unable to control her muscles.Her teeth chattered, her knees knocked together, and her hair seemed torise from her head.
Yet she could make no sound. Vainly she tried to scream, to shriek,--buther dry throat was constricted as with an iron band.
Her eyes burned in their sockets, yet she was powerless to shut them.They seemed suddenly to possess an uncanny ability to pierce thedarkness, and she saw the shape draw slowly nearer to her.
Clutching the bedclothing, she tried to draw it over her head, but herparalyzed arms refused to move. Nearer, slowly nearer, the thing came,and horror reached its climax at sight of the face beneath the shelteringshawl. It was the face of a skull! The hollow eye-sockets glared at her,and lifting a deathlike hand, with long white fingers, the spectre toldoff one, two, three, four! on the digits. There was no sound, but a finalpointing of the fearsome index finger at the stricken girl, seemed adeath warrant for herself.
The thing disappeared. Slowly, silently, as it had come, so it went. Fromnowhere to nowhere,--it evolved from the darkness and to the darknessreturned.
Vernie didn't faint, but she suffered excruciatingly; her head was onfire, her flesh crept and quivered, she was bathed in a coldperspiration, and her heart beat madly, wildly, as if it would burst.
The vision, though gone, remained etched on her brain, and she knew thatuntil that faded she could not move or speak.
It seemed to her hours, but at last the tension lessened a little. Thefirst move was agony, but by degrees she changed her position a trifleand moistened her dry lips.
With the first faint glimmer of dawn, she dragged herself upstairs andcrept into bed beside Eve Carnforth.
"Tell me," begged Eve, and Vernie told her.
"It was a warning," said the child, solemnly. "It means I shall die atfour o'clock some morning."
"Nonsense, Kiddie! Now you've come through so bravely, and have such anexperience to tell, don't spoil it all by such croaking."
"But it's true, Eve. I could see that awful thing's face, and it countedfour, and then beckoned,--sort of shook its finger, you know, and pointedat me. And--oh, I hardly noticed at the time, but it carried a glass inits hand--it seemed to have two glasses----"
"Oh, come now, dearie, you're romancing. How could it have two glasses,when it was shaking its hand at you?"
"But it did, Eve. It had two little glasses, both in the same hand. Iremember distinctly. Oh, every bit of it is printed on my brain forever!I wish I hadn't done it! Rudolph told me not to!"
A flood of tears came and Vernie gave way
to great racking sobs, as sheburied her face in the pillow.
"Yes, he was right, too, Vernie; but you know, he only wanted you not totry it because he feared it would upset your nerves. Now if you're goingto square yourself with Mr. Braye, you can only do it, by not lettingyour nerves be upset. So brace up and control them. Cry, dear, cry allyou can. That's a relief, and will do you a heap of good. Then we'll talkit over, and by breakfast time you'll be ready to tell them all about it,and you'll be the heroine of the whole crowd. It's wonderful, Vernie,what you've got to tell, and you must be careful to tell it truly and notexaggerate or forget anything. Cry away, honey, here's a freshhandkerchief."
Eve's calm voice and matter-of-fact manner did much to restore Vernie'snerves, and as she looked around the rational, familiar room, bright withsunlight, her spirits revived, and she began to appreciate her role ofheroine.
Her story was received with grave consideration. It was impossible tobelieve the honest, earnest child capable of falsehood or deceit. Herdescription was too realistic, her straightforward narrative toounshakable, her manner too impressively true, to be doubted in the leastdegree or detail.
Gifford Bruce laughed and complimented her on her pluck. Mr. Tracyreproved her for breaking her word to her cousin, but as he was in no wayresponsible for Vernie's behaviour, he said very little.
Landon scolded her roundly, while Milly said nothing at all.
The whole affair cast rather a gloom over them all, for it seemed as ifthe spectre had at last really manifested itself in earnest. An undoubtedappearance to an innocent child was far more convincing than to a grownperson of avowed psychic tendencies. Eve Carnforth might have imaginedmuch of the story she told; her 'expectant attention' might haveexaggerated the facts; but Vernie's mind was like a page of white paper,on which the scene she passed through had left a clear imprint.
That night Vernie herself got out the Ouija board and asked Eve to helpher try it.
"No," was the reply. "I'm too broken up. And, too, the people don'tbelieve _me_. Get your uncle or Mr. Tracy or some truthful and honourableperson to help you."
It embittered Eve that her earnestness and her implicit belief in thesupernatural made it more difficult for the others to look upon her asentirely disingenuous. She resented this, and was a little morose inconsequence. Norma Cameron, herself an avowed 'sensitive,' had had nospiritistic visitant in the haunted room, and Eve thought Norma haddoubted her word.
At last after trying all the others that she wanted, Vernie persuadedgood-natured Mr. Tracy to move Ouija with her, and the two sat down withthe board between them.
Few and flippant messages were forthcoming, until, just as Vernie hadlaughingly declared she would throw the old thing out of the window, astartling sentence formed itself from the erratic dartings of theheart-shaped toy, and Vernie turned pale.
"Stop it!" ordered Tracy, "I refuse to touch it again!"
He removed his hands and sat back, but Vernie, glaring at the letters,held it a moment longer. "To-morrow! it says to-morrow!" she cried. "Oh,Eve, I told you so!"
"What, Vernie? What is it, dear?" and Eve Carnforth came over to theexcited child.
"Ouija, Eve! Ouija said that to-morrow at four, two of us are to die! Oh,Eve, you know every death in this house has occurred at four o'clock inthe morning! Mr. Stebbins said so. And now, two of us are to dieto-morrow!"
"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Tracy, "don't listen to that rubbish! The Ouija ranoff its track. Maybe Vernie pushed it,--maybe I did."
"Now, Mr. Tracy, I _didn't_ push it, and you needn't try to make anybodythink _you_ did! You never'd push it to say a thing like that! Why, itspelled it all out as plain as day! Uncle Gifford, do you hear! Two of usto die to-morrow!" Vernie's voice rose to a hysterical shriek.
"Hush, Vernie! Hush, child. I'll take you away from here to-morrow. Weought never to have brought you," and Gifford Bruce glowered at theothers as he clasped the sobbing child in his arms, and took her from theroom.
"You're right," agreed Mr. Tracy, "and Braye was right. He said a frightor shock would upset that child's nerves completely. But she must havepushed the board herself. It flew round like lightning, and spelled outthe message, just as she said. I tried to steer it off, but she urgedagainst me. I felt her doing so. I don't mean she made up the message tocreate a sensation, but I think the ghost last night affected her as awarning, and her mind is so full of it, that she unconsciously orsubconsciously worked up that 'message.' At any rate, I've had aboutenough of this, if she's to be here. It isn't right to frighten a childso, and Vernie is little more than a child."
"That's so," said Norma, thoughtfully. "I've had enough, too. If the restof you want to stay on, I'll go down to New York to-morrow, and takeVernie to stay with me for a while. We'll go to the seashore, and I'llsee to it that she has no psychic or supernatural experiences."
"Why, Norma," and Eve looked surprised, "I thought you were so interestedin these things."
"So I am, but not to the extent of so affecting the nervous system of asweet, innocent child, that it may result in permanent injury."
"She's all right," said Gifford Bruce, returning, alone. "It's hysteria.I think I'll take her back to town to-morrow or next day. There'ssomething uncanny up here, that's certain. I didn't take any stock in theexperiences of you people, but I can't disbelieve Vernie's story."
The party broke up and all went to their rooms. There was no volunteer tosleep in the haunted room that night, and every one felt a shiveringdread of what might happen at four o'clock the next morning.
Not one admitted it, but every one secretly shuddered at thought ofOuija's message.
And when, as the hall clock rung out its four strokes the next morning,and nothing untoward happened, every one drew a long breath and soon wentto sleep again, relieved, as of a heavy burden.
Gaily they gathered at breakfast, daylight and good cheer reviving theirspirits.
"But Ouija is henceforth taboo," said Mr. Tracy, shaking his finger atthe now laughing Vernie.
"For little girls, anyway," supplemented Eve.
"Little girls are taboo, also," declared Gifford Bruce. "I can't get offto-day, for I want to see Rudolph on his return, but to-morrow, I pack upmy Vernie child and take her back to our own little old Chicago on thelake. These Aspens are too black for us!"
"Now, Uncle, I don't want to go," and Vernie pouted prettily. "And sumpumtells me I won't go," she added with a roguish glance at her uncle, whomshe usually twisted round her rosy little finger.
But he gave her a grave smile in return, and the subject was dropped forthe moment.
Soon after noon, Braye came up from the city, and listened, frowning, tothe tales that were told him.
"You promised me, Vernie," he said, reproachfully.
"I know it, Cousin Rudolph, but you see, I've never kept a promise in mywhole life,--and I didn't want to break my record!"
"Naughty Flapper! I won't give you the present I brought for you."
"Oh, yes you will," and so wheedlesome was the lovely face, and sopersuasive the soft voice, that Vernie, after a short argument, seizedupon a small jeweller's packet and unwrapped a pretty little ring.
"Angel Cousin," she observed, "you're just about the nicest cousin Ipossess,--beside being the only one!"
"Doubtful compliment!" laughed Braye. "Any way, you're the prettiest andnaughtiest cousin _I_ own! As a punishment for your disobedience Ichallenge you to a round with old Ouija to-night! I'll bet I can make itsay something more cheerful than you wormed out of it last evening."
"All right, we'll try it," and Vernie danced gaily away to tease heruncle not to take her home.
A little later, Milly, as housekeeper, discovered some serious shortagein the commissariat department, and Braye offered to drive her over toEast Dryden, marketing.
They started off, Milly calling back to Eve to preside at the tea-table,if she didn't return in time.
"All right," agreed Eve, though Vernie vociferously announced herintention of
playing hostess in Milly's absence.
The shoppers had not returned when old Thorpe brought in the tea-tray.
"You can pour, Eve, and I'll pass the cakies," said Vernie, who was inhigh spirits, for she had partially persuaded her uncle to remain longerat Black Aspens. He was just phrasing certain strong stipulations onwhich his permission was to be based, when the tea things arrived.
They were, as usual, in the hall, for though they sometimes suggested theplan of having tea out of doors, there was no cheerful terrace, orpleasant porch. The hall, though sombre and vast, had become more or lesshomelike by virtue of usage, so there they took their tea.
Mr. Tracy, always graceful in social matters, helped pass the cups andplates, for no one liked to have the old Thorpes about unnecessarily.
"No tea for me, please," declared Norma; "I think it upsets mynerves,----"
"And that is not the thing to do in _this_ house," laughed Landon. "Thisis mighty good tea, though,--didn't know anybody could brew it as well asMilly. Congratulations, Eve."
"Thank you," and Eve's long lashes swept upward as she gave him acoquettish glance.
"Referring to that matter of which we were talking, Hardwick," GiffordBruce began, "I----"
Even as he spoke, the clock chimed four, and, as always, they paused tocount the long, slow strokes.
Then Bruce began again: "I think, myself----"
A strange change passed over his face. His jaw fell, his eyes stared, andthen, his teacup fell from his hand, and he slumped down in an awful--aterrifying heap!
Landon sprang to his assistance, Norma ran to him, while Tracy, with aquick glance at Vernie, flew to the child's side.
"What is it?" he cried to her, "what's the matter, Vernie?" He slipped anarm round her, just as, with a wild look and a ringing shriek, the girl'shead fell back and her eyes closed.
"Oh," cried Eve, "_what_ has happened?"
"I don't know," and Tracy's voice shook. "Help me, Miss Carnforth--let uslay her on this sofa."
Between them they carried the girl, for she was past muscular effort, andas they placed her gently on the sofa her eyes fluttered, she gave agasping sigh, and fell back, inert.
"Oh," cried Eve, "she isn't--she _isn't_--_oh_, it's just four o'clock!"
Landon ran to Vernie's side and felt of her heart.
"She is dead," he said, solemnly, his face white, his voice shaking; "andGifford Bruce is dead, too. It is four o'clock!"
The Room with the Tassels Page 6