“Has you gent’men seen everything in dis heah room what you would like
to?” She gave a low, cheerful, seductive kind of laugh as she asked the
question, resting her hands on her hips and looking at first one and then
the other, “’cause we’ve got a pow’ful lot of rooms in dis heah house,
and if you wants to get back to your Christmas-tree I reckon we’d better
be a movin’.”
The two men looked at her as a fresh kind of curiosity and laughed. “Oh,
I guess there isn’t much use in hurrying,” one answered; “it’s right
uncomfortable to be hidden somewhere, and you all might as well make up
your minds to give up the young gentleman; he can’t possibly escape, you
know. We’ve got men all outside the house. It would be dangerous for him
to try; he might get shot.”
Sallie Tom clutched her hands angrily together under her apron. She had
an intense desire to wring their necks, the little whippersnappers, she
muttered under her breath. Give up Mars’ Bobbie? Not as long as a drop of
blood was in her veins; but outwardly she gave no sign. “Yes, I seen you
is got a pow’ful lot of men outside,” she said, chuckling as if highly
amused. “I counted you when you comed up, an’ dere’s six of you; you two
is in heah, an’ de other fo’ is at de fo’ corner’s of de house. Lordy,
gent’mens, you all sutny don’t know nothin’ ’bout dis heah place when you
comes up wid six men to frighten a lot of women folks. Dis heah place is
‘White Point,’ an’ we all is jes ez used to seein’ men ’round heah ez
flies in summer. Why, our Mars’ Tayloe didn’t think nothin’ o’ callin’
up a hundred head o’ niggers at a time an’ givin’ em eggnog an’ sich on
Christmas. You all oughter bringed up suppin’ what would a-looked like
suppin’ when you was a-comin’; but I don’t s’pose you all is frum anywhar
near dese heah parts, an’ cose you didn’t kno’ no better.” Sallie Tom’s
cheerfully condescending tone was irresistible.
The two men laughed in spite of themselves. “We acknowledge our
ignorance, old woman,” the Lieutenant answered, “and now, as I don’t
think our friend is in any of these chairs or sofas, we would like to
move on.” Sallie Tom opened the door and they walked into the hall.
A cheerful light from the library streamed out, and the laughing and
talking sounded as if the inmates were entirely uninterested in the
search being made through the house. The two men stopped instinctively
at the door and bowed politely. Dorothy sprang from her chair and came
toward them, also Anne Carter, and whatever was in their hearts, they
concealed it well.
“You wish to search these rooms?” said Dorothy, pleasantly. “Don’t
hesitate to do so. Our pastor is taking his Christmas tea with us, also
a few other friends, and that is why I cannot go with you over the
house—unless they will excuse me. Let’s go anyhow, Anne,” she added,
turning quickly to her friend. “I’ve told you it would be useless,
however,” she went on. “Mr. Tayloe left here five hours ago; but of
course you must go through the house, and we might show you some nooks
and corners Sallie Tom would possibly leave out.” The two men glanced at
each other, then accepted Dorothy’s offer with thanks. It would certainly
do no harm to have two pretty girls go along. They looked around the
comfortable, homelike rooms a little longingly; how cosy everything was,
and how good that coffee smelt! One of them involuntarily sniffed it and
Mrs. Tayloe saw it, and her hospitable soul forgot for a moment they were
soldiers hunting for her boy. They were some other mother’s boys, and she
came forward in her sweet, gracious way, full of such quiet dignity that
the rudest boor would have felt its power. “It is very cold,” she said,
interrupting them as they stood talking together at the door; “will not
you gentlemen have a cup of coffee?” The Lieutenant and his Sergeant drew
back a little, as if they had not heard aright. They had read a great
deal about Southern hospitality, but it quite upset them to be offered
it under such circumstances. Sallie Tom had drawn Dorothy aside, and was
saying something in an undertone; but the latter had heard Mrs. Tayloe’s
question, and she answered it for them.
“Of course they will,” she broke in. “I’m sure they are hungry and
thirsty too, and I know they will have some supper after we get through
the search; but we must do that first. Sallie Tom will lead the way, the
gentlemen will follow, and Anne and I will bring up the rear.”
Laughingly they left the room, and faithfully did Sallie Tom pilot
them into every nook and corner. Every closet was opened and every
big box explored. Those left down-stairs in the library listened with
beating hearts and strained ears to every step, and when at last they
were heard mounting the garret stairs Mrs. Taylor sank helplessly in
her chair and buried her face in her hands. Down through the halls
sounded the apparently merry laughter of the girls, joined in now and
then by the two young officers, who were becoming momentarily more and
more impressed that they were making guys of themselves, and were being
laughed at good-naturedly for their pains. Notwithstanding all this,
however, very faithfully they performed their part, and not a nook lacked
investigation. When they reached the garret stairs Sallie Tom began to
mount as unconcernedly as she had shown every other part of the house.
She held her lamp high in hand and clattered noisily up the steps, as if
to give fair warning to the men hidden in the loft that their very breath
must be held during the search. The men followed a little indifferently.
It was evident they were having their trouble for nothing, and they were
anxious to get through. Anne and Dorothy, following behind, looked at
each other with white faces. Surely the beating of their hearts would be
heard if they stopped laughing and talking. The farce must be kept up a
little longer.
“I suppose this is where the family ghosts are kept,” said the younger of
the two men, as they began to mount the steps. “I should think, however,
they would soon be pretty well frozen out up here.”
“Not a bit of it,” answered Dorothy, laughing a little recklessly,
“we have some most interesting cases in the family, and this is their
principal scene of action. This is my first visit up here after dark
since I was so frightened when a child. It always gives me the creeps to
think of the place at night.”
“Then we feel highly honored at your presence with us,” answered the
Lieutenant, making a profound bow, as they reached the landing at the top
of the steps. “I wish I knew some of these wonderful ghost stories that I
hear are peculiar to this part of the country, and I would give something
pretty to see one of your ghosts.”
Sallie Tom pushed open the door, and they all entered. The long,
low-pitched room with its four dormer windows, stretched out into huge
weird dimensions as they stood silently for a moment looking around,
and then the men slipped farther in. Sallie Tom followed and held her
lamp high in hand, and the light fell so as to cause the opening to the
loft to be cast in such a shadow that it could not be distinguished from
the rest of the wall. All around the room were great packing-trunks and
cases, and from ropes stretched from side to side hung various pieces of
old clothing and bed covering. The room was completely dark save for the
stream of light cast by the lamp, and a gruesome, uncanny feeling crept
over them all, as the men wandered around the room, poking behind this
and that, and turning over old broken chairs and odd bits of furniture.
Anne touched Dorothy on the arm and pointed to a sheet near by.
“Let’s frighten them,” she whispered. “I’m positive that little
yellow-haired thing smells a rat; he’ll find that hole in the wall yet.”
Dorothy nodded and clutched Sallie Tom by the dress. She pointed to
Anne, who was softly drawing the sheet towards her. “Playing ghost!” she
muttered under her breath; “you shriek and run with the lamp.”
Dorothy walked over to the two officers and began to talk. “This used to
be our happy hunting-ground when we were children,” she began; “we always
played up here on rainy days, and such dressing in antique garments I am
sure you have never seen—unless,” she added, politely, “you had a similar
garret to play in.” They were getting dangerously near the entrance to
the loft. “We got frightened by what we thought was a ghost once, and
we never cared to play here again. What—what, oh, what is that!” she
cried, clutching the sleeve of one of the men. A terrific shriek from
Sallie Tom, as she rushed wildly down the steps with the lamp, made their
blood run cold. “Oh, Lordy, Lord Gord A’mighty!” she yelled, pitching
like something wild, on, down, down, until she reached the library.
“De ghostes done come like de trumpet bin a’blowed,” she shrieked. “Oh,
Lord, don’t mix us up wid dem inturferin’ Yankees. Lord A’mighty, hab
mercy on us, dey come a’meddlin’ fust. Oh, Lordy, Lordy!” they could hear
her shriek, but fainter and fainter as she neared the room below. The
two men turned quickly at the terrific sound of Sallie Tom’s voice, and
though the room was inky black save for the dim rays that came from the
dormer windows, they saw creeping towards them a flapping, white-winged
object. Both of them caught Dorothy with one hand, while with the other
they grasped their pistols. A muffled laugh broke from under the sheet,
and in a second it was dropped and Anne shook it off gaily. “Now confess
you were frightened,” she cried, merrily. “I do believe you were going to
shoot me. I didn’t think of that when I put the sheet on, but that is why
I dropped it in such a hurry. Did you ever hear such a shriek as Sallie
Tom gave? She’ll never forgive me for this—she’s such a firm believer in
‘ghostes.’ I wish she had left the lamp behind; it’s as dark as Egypt up
here, and I’m almost frozen.” Dorothy had dropped down on the top of a
chest, and apparently was quivering in every limb. The men broke into a
relieved laugh as they put their pistols back into their belts.
“It was pretty cold up here before the ghost appeared,” said the
Lieutenant, “but it makes me hot all over to think how near I came to
shooting you. Great heaven! suppose I had!” The man’s voice shook in
spite of himself, and he wiped his face with his handkerchief.
“You’re a plucky ghost,” said the Sergeant, still trying to get his
pistol fixed in his belt, “and I’m honest enough to acknowledge you
frightened me silly.” His blood was still tingling from the touch of
Dorothy’s hands—he wanted to get down to the light where he could see her
face again, and he made a move towards the door. Dorothy was laughing
now, a little foolishly.
“It was stupid in me to think it was really a ghost,” she said, rather
apologetically, “but Anne ought not to have frightened us like that. Are
you gentlemen through?” she added, “or shall I call Sallie Tom to bring
back the lamp?”
“I don’t think she would come if you called,” answered the Lieutenant.
“I guess we have taxed your patience quite long enough. Can I help you
down the steps?” He turned to Anne as he spoke and held out his hand
to lead her down. The Sergeant did the same for Dorothy, and soon they
were back in the library, where amidst much laughter they explained the
cause of Sallie Tom’s flight. “She is out in the kitchen now, trying to
get supper,” said Mrs. Tayloe, breathing freely once more; “but I don’t
believe you can persuade her you are not the genuine article, my dear.”
She pressed Anne by the hand, and the latter understood the signal. “Poor
old Sallie Tom,” she answered, getting up, “I must go and make peace
with her, or we won’t have anything much for supper, I’m afraid, and
I’m simply, absolutely starving.” She went out of the room with a mock
courtesy, and they heard her calling to Sallie Tom to “look out! the
‘ghostes’ were coming!” And then the kitchen door banged.