On the faces of those three hundred girls was consternation and grief; in their young hearts a memory of the “spookish” things which had happened of late, but that had not before disturbed them; and now, at the excited entrance of the maid, a shiver ran over the whole company. Here was news! Nothing less could explain this unceremonious disturbance. Even Miss Muriel’s face turned paler than it had been, could that have been possible and without a word she waited for the maid to speak.
“Oh! Lady Principal! Let somebody come! The drying-loft! screams—boards dragging—or trunks—or murder doing—maybe! Let somebody go quick—Michael—a man—men—Somebody quick!”
Exhausted by her own excitement, the maid sank upon the nearest chair, her hand on her heart, and herself unable to add another word. Miss Tross-Kingdon rose, trembling so that she could hardly walk, and made her way out of the room. In an instant every assembled schoolgirl was on her feet, speeding toward the far west wing and the great loft, dreading yet eager to see what would there be revealed.
Still anxious on his own account, but from a far different cause, and still listening at the closed door with wonder at what seemed going on behind it, was Jack, the boot-boy. At the approach of the excited girls, he lifted his ear from the keyhole and looked behind him, to find himself trapped, as it were, at this end of the narrow passage by the multitude which swarmed about him, feverishly demanding:
“Boy, what is it? What is it? Is Dorothy in there? Is Dorothy found?”
“Is Dorothy—”
Poor Jack! This was the worst yet! At full comprehension of what that question meant, even he turned pale and his lips stuttered:
“I—I—dunno—I—Jiminy cricket!”
He must get out of that! He must—he must! Before that door was opened he must escape!
Frantically he tried to force his way backward through the crowd which penned him in, but could make little progress; even that being suddenly cut off by a strong hand laid on his shoulder and the chef forcing into his hand a stout crowbar, and ordering: