Roger was very indignant, and when he pulled out the short poker from under his clothes, he flourished it about in great wrath, threatening to massacre the coachman, butler, and every one, indeed, who did not believe him.
Order, however, was soon restored among them, and when the supper bell rang all repaired in great haste to the servants’ hall to hear the various odds and ends of the footman’s strange adventure.
They were all seated round the table, playing sad havoc with rounds of beef and good old ale, when all at once the lamps went out!
Roger would have fled on the instant, but he was afraid of being afterwards branded as a coward, and, therefore, remained in his seat, but felt very uneasy.
The French cook, at the head of the table, left his chair to go for other lamps.
At the moment that lights reappeared the whole assembly were struck dumb at what they then saw.
Behind the chair of each there stood one of the Skeleton Crew!
They would have shouted out loudly, but one of the Skeletons, who appeared to be chief of the party, said, sternly, and in a sepulchral tone, to a gigantic Skeleton,
“The first one that stirs—the first one that speaks above his breath, despatch him!”
Roger groaned inwardly, and felt more dead than alive.