The Little Colonel at Boarding-School

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER XII.

  GHOST OR GIRL

  ALLISON, struggling into her jacket as she ran, hurried along the paththrough Clovercroft to overtake Kitty and Katie on their way home atnoon.

  "Wait!" she called, waving her gloves frantically to attract theirattention as they looked back from the woodland gate.

  "I have some news for you." She was almost breathless when she caught upwith them.

  "What do you think of this? Ida and Lloyd have had a falling out of somekind. Neither one will say what it's about, but they don't have anythingmore to do with each other, and Ida has resigned from the Shadow Club.She told me just now to tell you all that she couldn't come any more,and that we might as well invite somebody else to join in her place. Shedidn't give any reason for leaving, and you know when she puts on thatdignified, grown-up air of hers, one doesn't feel at liberty to askquestions. I told her I was sorry, and started to beg her to change hermind, but she wouldn't listen; just smiled in a mournful sort of way asif she had lost her last friend, and hurried past me.

  "I asked Betty if she knew what was the matter, and she said it must bea quarrel of some kind, for Lloyd was dreadfully unhappy. After she cameback from Locust yesterday evening she threw herself across the bed andcried, and cried, and wouldn't tell what for. She wouldn't go down tosupper, either, and afterward, when Betty fixed her something on thechafing-dish, she barely tasted it."

  "We'll have a gay old club meeting to-morrow," said Katie, "with Idagone and Lloyd in the dumps and Betty unable to come, on account of hercold--"

  "And her head so full of the book she's writing that she can't take anyinterest in anything else," interrupted Kitty. "It's too bad thatthere's only half a club left. Three of us can't get enough things readyto have a fair by Easter."

  "That isn't the worst of it," answered Katie. "The three of us alonenever can get even with Mittie Dupong and carry out our hoodoo plot topunish her, because we are all outside of the seminary. I'm tired ofhaving the girls laugh whenever they see me eating an apple and makeremarks about C. D."

  "And I'm tired of hearing everlastingly about that old valentine!"chimed in Kitty. "If the other girls won't help us I think we ought toact on Ida's suggestion and take in some new members who would."

  "Lucy Smith would be glad to join in Ida's place," said Allison. "Sherooms across the hall from Mittie, and she'd dare do anything that wewould suggest."

  "And Retta Long's room is just above, and she's a good friend of ours,"added Kitty. "Let's talk it over with Betty and Lloyd as soon as we getback to the seminary after dinner, and if they're willing we'll swear inthe new members at recess."

  "All right," assented Katie. "I'll hurry back and meet you here at thedepot as soon as I get through dinner. We'll settle this before night."

  But much running back and forth and consulting and discussing wasnecessary before the new addition to the club was in full working order.Lloyd and Betty were willing to admit Retta and Lucy, but Retta and Lucywere not willing to join unless their roommates were included in theinvitation; and their roommates, Dora Deersly and Rose Parker, were notwilling to spend any time in making fancy articles for the fair. It wastoo near the holidays, they said. They needed all their spare time forthe presents they were trying to finish before Christmas.

  "Couldn't they be sort of honorary members, and not have to work?"suggested Kitty. "They needn't even meet with us on Saturdays, ifthey'll help us play ghost to scare Mittie."

  "Yes, there are some secret societies, like the Masons, that havedifferent orders," Allison said. "Why couldn't we have, too? We'll beone kind of shadow, the kind that casts the influence, and the otherfour can be another kind and do the mischief. We can call ourselves theG. G.'s for good ghosts. Betty, can't you fix up something for theothers?"

  "Yes," answered Betty, "if you'll give me enough time."

  She turned to the little note-book she always carried, and began lookingover a list of words on the last page. The girls often laughed atBetty's devotion to the dictionary. Frequently they found her poringover its pages, picking out new words that pleased her fancy, as theywould pick out the kernels of a nut, and jotting them down for futureuse.

  "Here it is," she cried, presently, "wraith! It means spirit orapparition. They can be the wicked wraiths--the W. W.'s. No," she added,as another chosen word caught her eye. "They can be the W. V.'s.Wraiths of Vengeance; that sounds better. That will fit in with thestory of the veiled lady who haunts the seminary, because it is supposedshe comes back to try to wreak vengeance on the people who wronged her.Allison, you tell little Elise that story to-night, and let her spreadit among the primary grades, and it'll be all over the school by thetime the girls are ready to perform, that the Wraith of Vengeance hasbeen seen again, floating near Mittie Dupong's door."

  There was no regular meeting of the Shadow Club that Saturday. Mrs.Walton had not been taken into the secret of the Wraiths of Vengeance,and when it was explained to her that Betty had a cold and could notcome, and Lloyd and Ida had had a misunderstanding and were not on goodterms, she was quite willing to compensate the girls for theirdisappointment by inviting Lucy Smith and Retta Long to tea.

  Some of the neighbours came in to spend the evening, so Allison andKitty took their guests up-stairs to make some experiments with a magiclantern which had often afforded them amusement. Little Elise, who hadseen all the pictures many times before, went back to the library, andBarbry soon finished her evening duties up-stairs; so no one ever knewjust what those experiments were.

  Among the slides was a picture of Lot's wife; a tall, white figure witha half-lifted veil, turning for a backward look. The lurid flames ofburning Sodom glowed in the background the first time Lucy and Retta sawit thrown upon the wall, but the last time it was changed into a ghostlyfigure that made those Wraiths of Vengeance dance for joy. Allison, witha thick coat of black paint, had carefully covered all the background,blotting out everything in the circle except the figure itself, whichstood out with startling distinctness. Then from the top of astep-ladder they practised throwing it from the transom of Allison'sroom through the opposite transom of the room across the hall.

  "It will be even easier than this at the seminary," said Lucy, "for thehall between Mittie's room and mine is narrower, and the transoms arelower. That will throw the figure directly above the foot of Mittie'sbed. I think it will be all the better that we have to throw it high,for it will give the floating effect the veiled lady is famous for, tohave the head so near the ceiling. I'll have to lay in a stock ofprovisions so that I need not go down to supper Monday night. Then whileeverybody is in the dining-room I'll hide the step-ladder under my bed,and experiment with the lantern from my transom to get exactly the rightposition."

  "What if Mittie shouldn't wake up when you flash it in?" suggestedAllison.

  Retta was equal to providing for such an emergency. "I'll set my watchwith Lucy's," she said, "and at exactly the moment we agree upon, I'lltap on Mittie's window just below mine with a bottle let down on astring. I'll give three sepulchral knocks, then wait a minute and givethree more. I should think that an empty bottle knocking against theglass would give a hollow sort of sound. That's the window we alwayskeep open at night."

  "When it's time for Barbry to take you home," said Allison, "we'll go,too, and help carry the lantern. Now this is a case of our shadow-selvesbeing where we can not. We can't do the actual scaring, but it's ourlantern that's going to cast the shadow that will make Mittie Dupongafraid to listen again as long as she lives."

  It took considerable self-denial on Lucy's part to forego supper whenthe time came to carry out the plan, but the spirit of mischief wasstronger than her appetite. She was rewarded by finding the daintiest ofluncheons in the box Allison left upon her table, and as she sat downto enjoy it after bringing in the step-ladder from the chambermaid'ssupply-closet and making her experiments, she thought the Order ofWraiths was a most excellent thing to which to belong.

  Although midnight is the prescrib
ed time for all ghostly visitants,these wraiths had arranged for a much earlier appearing. It would costtoo great an effort to keep awake until that witching hour. It was notmore than half-past ten, although the seminary had been in darkness andsilence for an hour, when Retta leaned out of her window, dangling anempty shoe-polish bottle on the end of a long string. It swung againstMittie's window just below with three hollow knocks. Ten seconds afterby Lucy's watch the knocking was repeated. She could not hear it fromher room, but her faith in Retta's punctuality in carrying out her partof the programme made her send a dazzling circle of light from thelantern she was manipulating, to rest on the wall above the foot ofMittie's bed.

  Mittie sat up in bed, too startled to utter a sound. The light instantlydisappeared and a white-veiled figure took its place. To her horror shecould distinctly see the dark wall-paper through its ghostlyoutlines. She buried her face in the bedclothes with a moan of terror.

  "MITTIE SAT UP IN BED, TOO STARTLED TO UTTER A SOUND."]

  "What's the matter, Mittie?" asked her roommate, from the opposite bed,who had been aroused by the knocking and the light, but had not openedher eyes until she heard the moan. The sound of a human voice gaveMittie courage to look out again. The apparition was gone.

  "Oh," she quavered, "I must have been dreaming. I thought there was aknocking at the window, then there was a blinding light, and the nextinstant the veiled lady seemed to float across the room at the foot ofmy bed. I never was so frightened in my life. My tongue is stiff yet,and I am all in a shiver. Oh, it was awful!"

  "It must have been the potato salad you ate for supper," answered Sara,drowsily; but as she spoke the three slow knocks sounded again at thewindow, and she raised herself on her elbow to listen.

  "Oo-oo-oh! There it is again!" wailed Mittie, burrowing under thebedclothes again. The hair fairly rose on Sara's head as the outlines ofa veiled figure appeared above the foot of Mittie's bed, floatinghesitatingly a little space, and then vanished. In a flash Sara haddisappeared from view also, and lay almost smothered under theblankets, so rigid with fear that she dared not move a muscle. She heldherself motionless until she began to ache. It seemed hours beforeeither one dared look out again, although it was barely five minutes.

  "It was the hoodoo beginning to work," gasped Sara, in a hoarse whisper."Oh, if I ever live through this night I tell you I'll get out of thisroom in the morning, Mittie Dupong. I'll never spend another night witha girl that's marked for the haunts to follow."

  It was hours before they fell asleep, for they kept opening their eyesto assure themselves that the apparition had not reappeared. Even inbroad daylight the memory of their fright was not a pleasant thing tothink about. It required all the persuasion that Mittie could bring tobear, and the gift of a coral fan-chain to prevail upon Sara not to goto the teachers with the matter. She finally consented to room withMittie one more night, but announced in case the ghost came back she'dcertainly alarm the seminary.

  "But if the teachers found out that I really was marked that way,"sobbed Mittie, "they'd go to investigating, and find out about myeavesdropping, and they wouldn't let me stay in the school, if thespirits made such a disturbance about it."

  Sara promised secrecy, but while no hint of the appearance reached thefaculty, every girl in the seminary heard of it before night. Nothingwas talked of but table-tippings and spirit-rapping and "appearances."No ghostly visitant disturbed Mittie's and Sara's slumbers the secondnight. The Shadow Club, in secret session, decided it would not be safeto venture again so soon. But a spirit of unrest seemed to pervade thewhole seminary. Mischievous girls knocked on the walls to see theirroommates turn pale. Cold hands reached suddenly out of dark corners toclutch unwary passers-by, and a panic spread in a single evening amongthe pupils, more contagious than mumps or measles. Every one notinfected with the fear seemed infected with a desire to make some oneelse afraid.

  Even gentle little Jean Wilson, whose deportment was always perfect, andwho was too tender-hearted to watch a spider killed, so the girlsdeclared, felt moved to do something. Her roommate, Ada Day, loudlyproclaimed that _she_ was not afraid of spooks, and she didn't have anypatience with girls who were silly enough to believe such tales. Nothingcould frighten _her_!

  While Ada was in the bath-room that evening, Jean emptied a tin box oftalcum powder, slipped a spool of thread inside, and drawing the end ofthe thread through one of the holes in the perforated lid, hid the boxin the springs of Ada's bed. The black thread trailing across the carpetto Jean's pillow was not visible in the dimly lighted room when Ada cameback and found Jean lying with her eyes closed. She did not turn up thelamp, but began undressing as quietly as possible, and was soon in bedherself. Both girls were wakeful that night. Both heard the clock strikeseveral times. Ada tossed and turned whenever she roused, but Jean layas quiet as possible, breathing regularly, so that Ada thought she wasasleep and did not venture to speak.

  As the clock in the lower hall stopped striking twelve, Jean reached forthe thread fastened to her pillow by a pin, and gave it several quickuneven jerks. The spool rattling in the tin box sounded like themysterious rappings at which Ada had turned up her nose. To hear it thusin the dead of night was a different matter to Ada.

  "Jean!" she called, in a hoarse stage-whisper. "Jean! Did you hear that?What do you suppose it is?"

  Jean gave the thread another tweak, and then answered, in the same loudwhisper, "It sounds to me as if something was trying to spell your nameby tapping. It comes from under your bed, but then of course you don'tbelieve in such things. It may be a warning."

  "I wish I dared put my foot out of bed," said Ada, her teeth chattering."I'd get up and make a light. You do it, Jean. I'd do that much for youif the noise was under your bed."

  "Sh!" warned Jean. "I believe something is really calling you. It'scertainly spelling your name. Now count. One knock--that is A. One, two,three, four--D. One again--A. Yes, that spelled Ada. Now it's beginningagain. One, two, three, four--D. One--A." The knocks followed in rapidsuccession until Ada, realizing that they were going all the way to Y,was almost paralyzed with terror.

  "Oh, Jean!" she wailed. "Stop it! Stop it! Get up and make a light, orcall the matron, or something! I can't stand it a minute longer! I'll bea gibbering idiot if you don't stop that awful knocking!"

  Jean still continued to jerk the thread, till she heard Ada spring updesperately as if to jump out of bed. Then she said, "Oh, do be still,Ada Day. It's nothing but a spool in a tin box. See! I'll strike a matchand show you. I was only playing a trick on you because you boastednothing could frighten you. Don't rouse the house, for mercy's sake."

  It took much time and much pleading on Jean's part to convince Ada thatthere was really no spirit under her bed, and then it took more time andpleading to appease her anger. The sound of voices and the striking of amatch aroused the matron. She lay for a moment, wondering what was thematter; then, thinking that some one might be ill and in need of herservices, she got up, slipped on a warm bathrobe and her felt bedroomslippers, and stepped out into the hall to investigate.

  All was quiet, but she had a feeling that some mischief was afloat. Aninkling of the disturbing element in the school had reached her early inthe day, and although she had said nothing to the teachers, she had madea careful round of inspection just before going to bed. Some rumour ofthe doings of the Shadow Club which had come to her made her go to thewest wing and push aside the portiere hanging over the door that led tothe outside stairway. The bolt was in place, but it slipped easily inits sheath as if it had lately been oiled. Selecting a key on the ringat her belt, she locked the door. "I'll risk a fire for one night," shethought, "but I can't risk some other things."

  Although the hall was quiet when she stepped out now in the midnightsilence, some feeling that all was not right made her slip on down thefront stairs. There was no light, excepting a faint starlight, thatserved to show where the windows were. As she stood there listening,about to strike a match, something in white brushed down t
he stairs pasther. Half in a spirit of mischief, thinking to pay the girl or ghost,whichever it was, back in her own coin, the matron threw her arms aroundthe sheeted figure.

  There was a muffled scream of terror. But, holding her captive fast withone strong hand, the matron struck a match with the other.

  "Hush!" she said. "There's no use in disturbing everybody." Then as thematch flared up she saw that it was no Wraith of Vengeance she held. Thesheet fell to the floor, revealing Ida Shane, dressed even to hat andfurs, and carrying her leather travelling-bag.