"And what's that?"
"Go up into the belfry again and ring the bell. Everybody in the village would hear that, and Judson would come to see what was the matter."
"Yes," replied Cicely with some hesitation, "I suppose we must—but——"
"But what?"
"We should have to walk up the belfry stairs."
"Well?"
"Oh, Lindsay, Sir Mervyn! Suppose we were to meet him on the staircase? The village people say he walks!"
"And Monica said it was nothing but nonsense and superstition."
Lindsay tried to sound brave, but she held Cicely's arm tightly notwithstanding.
Poor Cicely felt "'twixt Scylla and Charybdis". To toll the bell seemed their only chance of escape, and to do so they must certainly mount into the square room where the rope was hanging. On the one hand was the prospect of spending some time in a building which was rapidly growing darker and darker, and on the other, there was a quick dash up the winding staircase, which was the centre of all her nervous fears.