"Hush!"
"A deep, deep silence, please!"
"Don't crowd so close—don't, Mary Breeze! If there are ghosts I can't protect you from them," came in Eva Larry's shrill whisper. "I'm sure I've not been vaccinated against seeing spirits."
This was after all the visitors had arrived, had removed their wraps, had been ushered into the big double parlors and seated. Across the far end of the room was drawn a sheet, and the lights were very dim.
A figure in long cloak and conical cap, leaning on a long wand, appeared suddenly beside the curtain. A blue light seemed to glimmer faintly around the Hallowe'en figure and outline it.
"Oh!" gasped Lucy Poole, "there's the very Old Witch of them all, I do declare!"
"The Old Wizard, you mean," laughed Agnes, who knew that Neale O'Neil was hidden behind the long cloak and the false face. He looked quite as feminine in this rig as any witch ever does look.
"Silence!" commanded again the husky voice from behind the screen.
With some little bustle the party fell still. The Hallowe'en Witch raised the wand and rapped the butt three times upon the little stand near by.
"Oh! oh! real spirits," gasped Eva. "They always begin with table-rappings, don't they?"