He twisted round and pointed his light at the steps immediately above him. “There’s the ghost,” he said, pointing to the tassels at the end of his dressing-gown cord, which was undone and dragging down the stairs behind him. He shook with silent mirth. “What a priceless pair of fools we are,” he gasped, but I had been too much upset to enjoy the humor of the situation.
Arrived on the bottom landing again, he switched on the light. It was an old lamp retired from one of the rooms to do more humble service and it gave but a dim and feeble light. It was very quiet. “Well, here’s for it,” he said, “you go and rout out Kenneth and I’ll attend to Ralph.”
I turned the handle of Kenneth’s door and was not surprised to find it locked. Soon, we both of us were knocking loudly with our fists. There was no longer need to be quiet, and the noise that we made went echoing, like a challenge, through the silent house. Dark-deeds-are-done-in-Dalehouse-at-night. I thumped it out on Kenneth’s door.
He was very sound asleep and I heard the doctor talking to Ralph before I could wake him up. When at length he did unlock his door, I told him to slip on his dressing-gown, and soon the four of us were gathered in a group under the landing light. The two boys were full of questions, but The Tundish asked them to wait with what patience they could while he roused the girls and made sure that they both were safe.
Ethel’s door swung slowly open on its hinges even as he moved toward it, and, clad in a pretty smoke blue dressing-gown, she stood in the doorway before us, swaying slightly, only half awake, a hand against each post to give herself support. She had switched on her bedroom light and its brighter glow shone through her ruffled curly hair. Senses quickening gradually, seeing us grouped together, her sleepy long-lashed eyes grew wide and her poor bruised face and swollen lips blanched and twitched, as her wakening fears increased. She tried to speak and failed.
The Tundish hurried toward her.
“What it is? Oh, what is it, Tundish dear?” she whispered.
He reassured her with a quiet, “There’s nothing to fear.” He held himself well in check, but I could see how he longed to take her in his strong safe arms and kiss her fears away. It was pitiful to see them standing there together, their love for each other so evident to us all. To Kenneth it must have been wormwood and gall. Ralph fetched her a chair from his room and we showed her what I had found.
Margaret was the last to be roused, and we had to knock on her door repeatedly before we could wake her up and then she was some minutes again before she joined us. Her eyes too, seemed heavy with sleep, but in contrast to Ethel she looked alert and awake. A pink dressing-gown, open wide at her full white throat, showed the creamy texture of her curving breast. She put up a hand to the pretty gap as with a giggle she said, “What a sight I must look.” However unsuitable the occasion, I thought, she must always have her femininity on parade. We none of us made the sought-for reply and she went and knelt by Ethel’s chair, holding and patting her hands.
While we were waiting for Margaret, the doctor had gone up-stairs again to find out about Annie and cook. Annie evidently was already wakened by the noise we had made and I soon heard him talking to her. Cook, however, he could not rouse, though we heard him pounding and banging away on her door. There was something altogether ghastly in the noise he made while we waited whispering below. Thud, thud, thud, and then a pause, and before the echoes had died away, a fierce thud, thud again. Thud-thud—thud—death—for surely the dead and only the dead could sleep through such a thudding!