Aunt Sally immediately went and closed the door and locked it; then fastened the windows and pulled the shades over them. At which a shout arose that the old lady heeded not a whit. She clasped her hands over her breast and her round face turned pale, as she whispered shrilly enough for all to hear:
“We’re undone! We’re all undone! We’re a passel of fools––and––and––– Oh, suz!”
Down she dropped into a chair, and there was no more laughter. She was not a timid woman, and her fright was evident. Her son stepped to her side and laid his hand on her shaking shoulder, demanding:
“What ails you, mother? What did you see? Why did you lock the doors?”
“I––I–––”
“Quit chattering your teeth together. What did you see?”
“Oh, son! I seen a––a––ghost!”
“Trash!”
Her courage began to return, and her anger to rise. She retorted promptly:
“No trash! A ghost. A spirit! As sure as I’m a-settin’ here this minute; the spirit of––of–––”