"Max," cried she, in a hissing whisper, "I want to speak to you. Make haste!"
He ran downstairs and found her standing with two of the maids, both of whom looked rather frightened.
"Max," said Doreen, "there's an old woman hanging about the place—" Max started. He guessed what was coming. "The same old woman that came at Christmas time. She jumped up in the well-house at Anne, and sent her into hysterics. And now they've lost sight of her, just as they did last time, and we want you to help to ferret her out and send her away."
"All right," said Max. "We'll pack her off."
He was at the bottom of the staircase by this time, and was starting on his way to the yard, when a little scream from one of the two maids, as she glanced up the stairs, made him look around. Carrie had come down so lightly and so swiftly that she was upon the group before they had heard a sound. She beckoned to Max, who came back at once.
Carrie was shaking like a leaf; her eyes were wide with alarm, with terror. Max went up a few stairs, to be out of hearing of the others, as she seemed to wish. Then she whispered:
"You know who it is. I saw her. Leave her alone. I implore you to leave her alone! She'll do no harm. Let her rest. Let the poor creature rest. If—if the police—"
At that moment there was a shout from the yard outside. Carrie sprang like a hare up the stairs to the window, and looked out with straining eyes.
The afternoon was one of those dull misty winter days, with a leaden sky and an east wind.
"I'll see that she isn't hurt!" called out Max, as he bounded down the stairs and ran into the yard behind the house.