"If you dare to disobey me, I'll shoot you and summon the house to hear me tell you attacked me for my watch. The watch lies there, where it fell during our struggle; my ring, which you stole from my finger while I slept, is in your pocket; you are muffled like a burglar, and you have burglarious instruments in your hands. You see, Jem, you die, shot through the head, and everybody believes I shot you in self-defense."
Jem gradually grew white with mingled awe and fear.
He flung his hand down upon the table with an oath.
"I'll do it," he swore. "You're worse than a ghost, captain; you're worse than the very fiend himself. Sometimes I do believe you are him. I'll do it; I can't stand agin you, it's no use; ghost or no ghost I must cave in. Ring, watch, these 'ere stockings on—s'welp me, you planned it all!"
The captain smiled, but instead of retort uncoiled the rope, and by a gesture bade his tool fasten it round his waist. Then he oiled the window sashes so that the window might go up easily, lit the lantern, and after a long, breathless pause of listening motioned to Jem to let himself down.
With intense interest, which was perfectly hidden under a calm, almost indifferent bearing, the captain watched his accomplice, as Jem, with monkeyish agility, dropped onto the thick boles of the ivy and clung to the stems as they in turn clung to the old walls.
Then he saw him rise hand over hand toward the window.
He gained the broad window ledge and, summoning all his doglike courage, dashed the cold perspiration from his brow and turned the light of the lantern full into the empty haunted room.
There was, however, nothing supernatural or ghostly to be seen.
It was an ordinary sized room, smaller than most of the modern rooms in the Park, and furnished in the style of a study or library.