"I am looking for ghosts," replied Bouchard with saturnine emphasis.
"Oh, don't say that!" cried Minna distractedly. "Sometimes at night I hear their chains clanking and their groans and cries for water," she continued, playing the superstitious and stupid maid servant. "That is, I think I do. Miss Galland says I don't."
"Does she go into the tunnel?" asked Bouchard.
"Yes, she's been in to show me that there were no ghosts," replied Minna. "But not the whole way—not into the dungeons. I believe she got frightened herself, though she wouldn't admit it. I know there are ghosts! She needn't tell me! Don't you believe there are?" she asked solemnly, with dropped jaw.
"I'm going to find out!" he said, taking a step forward.
But Minna, just inside the doorway, did not move to allow him to enter.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. "Then we'll know the truth. But no!" and she turned wild with protest. "No, no! I know there are! It's dangerous, sir! You'd never come out alive! Unseen hands would seize you and draw you down and strangle you—those terrible spirits of the dark ages!"
Her hands uplifted, fingers stretched apart in terror, lace white with fear, Minna's distress was real—very real, indeed!—while she listened impatiently for Marta's step in the adjoining room.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Bouchard in disgust. "I didn't know such superstition existed in this day."
"I didn't, sir, until the groans and the clanking of the chains kept me awake," replied Minna.